


Devil's Dealings

by touchyourblood



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Deal with a Devil, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Sexual Content, Time Skips, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchyourblood/pseuds/touchyourblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, is the only thing standing in the way of the Hydra, an age-old demon who's tried for centuries to conquer all mortals. It can’t corrupt him with Its magic, It can’t tempt him with Its deals, It can’t overpower him by force.</p>
<p>Until Steve forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret. The more time they spend together, the more Steve falls in love with him and the more confident he feels about the future. But that may be just what the Hydra wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

1987  
 _  
“Fuck me.”_

_It’s hotter than hell and he’s already coated in a thick layer of sweat. He can barely breathe as it is, but he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants and when he wants it. And right now, he wants this man—Terry?—he’d picked up in some run-down excuse for a bar. The heat doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that he’s on a rotten old mattress in a filthy motel room. Whatever unimaginable scum has been through the room before them makes no difference. All that matters is him and the other man. The man who’s too busy arranging a thin white line across his abdomen to do the job he brought him here for._

_“Hold your horses, baby.” The man—Timothy?—says, leaning down to snort his poison._

_He wraps the fingers of one hand in—Tyson’s?—hair and yanks his head up to meet him and holds up a small blue tablet with the other, “This is better.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“Trust me. This is better.” He sticks out his tongue and places the pill onto it, waiting for—Tucker?—to make a decision. He decides quickly enough and leans forward, taking his tongue into his mouth and swallowing down the pill. “Now fuck me.”_

_He doesn’t let—Tyrell?—answer; instead he crashes their lips together again and grinds himself against him. This time he gets what he asks for. It’s fast and hard and it hurts in every way he wants it to. His bedmate is brutal, fueled by the drugs and drinks and his own lust. He’s sure there will be bruises in the morning. Lot’s of them. He wouldn’t have it any other way._

_The ringing is painful. It rips him sharply from his sleep, pierces into his skull. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore it, but it continues on insistently. It takes a moment for him to realize the source; the phone. With a groan he reaches down and snatches it off the floor, where it had been knocked to the night before._

_“What?”_

_“New assignment.” The familiar voice says nothing more before hanging up._

_He grunts and drops the phone, then rubs a hand over his face. It’s only dawn but already sunlight is streaming in through the blinds. He sits up and glances around; the room is trashed from the night’s activities. Empty bottles are scattered all over the floor, used condoms and a small plastic bag that had held his companion’s cocaine just hours before. The bedside table has been knocked over, the lamp it held—which didn’t work anyway—in pieces. There are fresh spots of blood on the mattress. The other man is long gone. Not that he expected anything else._

_“Tyler.” He mutters, the name suddenly clear in his mind.  
He lets himself fall back onto the mattress; he knows he has some time before he needs to report in for his assignment. It was always the same; drugs, sex, work. That was the life he’d signed up for. There wasn’t anything more to it, but he’d long since stopped caring._

_It was easier that way._

1943

Steve moved cautiously through the facility. Stealth was absolutely crucial to his mission, and there were too many lives on the line for him to make even a single mistake. Not only had several of his own men been captured over ten days earlier, but sources said there were hundreds more held captive here. They had been dealt a serious blow and Steve was determined to prevent any further damage. The centuries-old demon called Hydra, with its uncanny ability to manipulate people and its strange magics, had come too close to taking control of the world already. Now that it had lost such a great deal of its footing, Steve wasn’t going to let it come that close again.

While he preferred straightforward fights to sneaking around, Steve had more than enough skill to infiltrate the weapons facility where the prisoners were being held. Forced to make weapons for the Hydra, he suspected. As he made his way deeper, he approached a guard from behind and quickly knocked him out before his presence was noticed. He stripped the man of his weapons and continued on. Though he preferred his trusty shield to guns, the mission was too sensitive to risk being caught unarmed. He had no backup in the middle of enemy territory. And if all went well, he could simply give the stolen weapons to his fellow soldiers when he found them.

Luck seemed to favor him, today, and Steve was able to reach the prison area undetected. It was an enormous room with wide floor-to-ceiling circular cages, each containing several prisoners.

“Rogers!” Called Falsworth, careful not to be too loud.  
“Whaddaya know, he finally showed up!” Dugan laughed, a hint of genuine relief behind it.  
“Are you all okay?” Steve asked as he approached their cell and began to unlock it with the keys he’d stolen off a guard.  
“Still breathing.” Morita answered from the cell behind him. “Might not’ve made it another few days, though.”  
“I’m sorry,” Steve said over his shoulder, “it took a while for Stark to pinpoint your location.”  
“Forget it, Steve,” Jones replied, “you’re here now. Just get us out of here.”  
“Right.” Steve wasted no time in unlocking each of the cells, taking in the condition of all the prisoners as they stepped out. He handed the stolen weapons off to everyone who appeared to have enough strength left to use them, hoping they would be enough to hold off the enemy until they could collect more on the way out. “Is this everyone?”  
“They dragged a few others out.” Dernier said.  
“How many?” Steve asked.  
“About twenty.” Falsworth answered. “They took them off to some isolation ward about four days ago. None have come back.”  
“Where is it?”  
Falsworth pointed to a door at the far end of the room, “It’s back there, but I’m not sure what else is.”  
Steve nodded, “Alright, the tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”  
“Be careful, Rogers.” Dugan said.  
“You too.” Steve replied, turning away and running toward the door Falsworth had pointed out.

As he made his way through the corridors, he could hear the others clashing with the Hydra’s soldiers. From the sounds of it, they were getting a great deal of satisfaction in finally being able to fight back against their captors. Hoping they would be able to overpower them and escape, Steve hurried through the halls, never letting his guard drop. Fortunately they all seemed to be rushing out to fight their former prisoners, and he only ran into a few more before he reached the isolation ward.

There were several more cells there, built into the walls and barely large enough for a single person to fit inside. The keys he’d found didn’t fit their doors, so Steve had to force them open, an action that resulted in a horribly loud screech every time as the metal gave beneath his strength. He could only hope it didn’t alert any remaining guards to his presence. To his dismay, each cell contained nothing more than a corpse, each one’s expression one of agony. Lamenting that he could not give them a proper burial, Steve took the dog tags from each corpse so their loved ones could at least know what had happened to them.

Having almost given up on finding anyone else alive, Steve’s heart leapt when he forced open the door of the last cell. The man inside was bruised and bloody, covered in dirt and his clothes torn up, but he was alive. He sat in the corner of the cell, his knees at his chest, his arms limp and his head tilted back. There was a dazed look on his face, his eyes empty as he stared into nothingness and muttered something Steve couldn’t quite understand over and over. He looked starved and dehydrated, and didn’t appear to notice Steve at all.

Insides twisting he crouched down in front of him, “Hey, can you hear me?”  
The man blinked slowly but gave no other indication he’d heard.  
Steve shook his shoulder gently, “Wake up, c’mon, snap out of it.”  
“Who’s that?” The man murmured, barely seeming aware he’d even said it.  
“My name is Steve Rogers; I’m here to rescue you.” Steve said clearly, hoping to get through to him. If need be, he knew he could simply toss the man over his shoulder and carry him out, but it would be far more difficult to fight off any attacking enemies that way.  
“Steve …Steve Rogers …” The man repeated. He blinked rapidly, then a slow smile spread across his face, “Captain America?”  
Offering a smile he hoped was reassuring, Steve nodded, “Yeah, that’s right. Come on, can you stand?” He didn’t wait for a reply before firmly holding the man’s arms and pulling him to his feet.  
Still disoriented, the man looked him up and down, “You’re even taller in person.”  
“So I’ve been told.” Steve replied. He glanced around but didn’t see any tags; the man must’ve been part of an independent resistance. “Can you walk?”  
“Walk?” The man blinked a few more times and seemed to be finding ground again, “Walk. Yeah. Yeah, I can walk.”  
“Good.” He positioned them so that he was supporting most of the man’s weight, “Alright, let’s go.” He wasn’t heavy—not that Steve had any trouble carrying multiple adults at once—and they were able to move fairly quickly.  
“What’s goin’ on out there?” The man questioned, hearing the chaos outside.  
“You’re all being rescued.” Steve said as though it were obvious.  
“Okay …” The man replied, still too groggy to think much of it.

Steve hurried through the facility, having an easier time finding his way now that he had a general idea of its layout. The further along they went, the more of his own weight the man seemed to be able to carry, allowing them to move faster. The sounds of the others fighting their way through to freedom were growing louder. Steve wanted to get to them as quickly as possible; he had faith in his team but he couldn’t help worrying for their safety. They weren’t in the best condition, after all. He pushed his thoughts of them away, knowing they would do nothing to help. At the moment he needed to concentrate on getting this man to safety.

As they turned a corner, Steve spotted several Hydra soldiers coming toward them. There were too many for him to fight them off while holding the man up, so he ducked into a nearby room, hoping that it would at least be a safe place to put the man down while he fought the soldiers. It was small storage room containing dozens of crates, each of which likely held weapons or machines to be shipped off to the Hydra’s other forces. Steve quickly helped the man to the floor behind one of the crates, turning around just in time to block the enemy soldiers’ bullets with his shield. 

“Surrender!” One of them shouted. “You’re outnumbered!”  
“And you’re outmatched.” Steve replied, throwing his shield before any of them could fire again. It hit two of them, knocking them to the ground, and returned to him with less than a heartbeat to spare before the remaining three fired again. Covering himself with his shield, Steve rushed forward into the three men, his superior strength throwing them all back. With all of them incapacitated, he turned back to collect the other man, finding him already back on his feet, using one of the crates for support.  
“I’m okay,” The man panted, “let’s go.”  
“It’s not too far.” Steve assured him, waiting just long enough for the man to move away from the crate before walking out of the room. He paused when the man stopped to pick up one of the fallen soldier’s guns, “Are you sure you can carry that right now? Don’t bother if you don’t have the strength.”  
He nodded, the exhaustion never leaving his face, “Yeah, I got it, Captain.”  
Steve returned the nod, “Okay.”

He kept an eye out for more enemies as they went and checked that his companion was still with him every minute or so. He was stumbling and moving much slower than Steve but he kept up all the same. At last they made it to the main weapons factory and he lead the man up a flight of stairs to a long metal bridge suspended over the area. All the needed to do was cross it and they would be at the exit.

They were nearly there when a familiar voice called out to Steve, “Captain America! How good to see you again!” A tall, lean man with brown hair and a cold, sadistic look in his eyes stepped forward, blocking their escape. Johann Schmidt, the Hydra’s current human form.  
“The feeling’s not mutual.” Steve replied, stopping in the middle of the bridge.  
Schmidt laughed coldly, “What a shame. I had been so looking forward to this day, ever since I took in your little friends.”  
“I bet you have.” Steve said as his companion lingered a step behind him. “But I’m afraid whatever you had in mind for today just isn’t going to happen. You’re finished.”  
“So confident, human, but you are the one who will fall today.” Schmidt declared.

He raised his gun and Steve had less than an instant to pull his companion to a crouch behind him and cover them both with his shield. Four Hydra soldiers appeared behind Schmidt and fired at Steve, pinning him and the other man down. Unlike those he’d faced earlier, these Hydra soldiers were elite and carried guns that fired a powerful blue laser capable of disintegrating nearly anything. Steve’s shield was made of one of the few materials in the world capable of withstanding it.

Unable to move out from behind his shield, Steve drew his own gun and fired. He hit one of the soldiers on Schmidt’s left square in the chest and fired a second shot, this time bringing the man down. Three to go. His position put him at a disadvantage, but he couldn’t risk the other man’s life by changing it. He would just have to take down the remaining enemies without moving.

“Surrender now, Captain!” Schmidt demanded.  
“I wouldn’t know how if I wanted to!” Steve declared.  
“Do you have a plan, Cap?” The man asked.  
“I might.” Steve replied, firing three more shots and killing the second man on Schmidt’s left. Two more. From his angle, it would be much harder to hit them. “How good’re you with that gun?”  
The man offered a weak but proud laugh, “Best there is.”  
Steve nodded toward the half-dozen large tanks chained together off to the side of the room below them, which he knew held the highly combustible residue from the strange material used to power the elite soldier’s guns, “Think you can hit those?”  
“Too easy, Captain.”

Despite his condition, the man adjusted himself quickly and took his shot. Steve knew immediately he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d called himself the best; with one shot he’d hit the chain perfectly. He heard Schmidt shout as the tanks collapsed and cracked open from the impact. The man seemed to know exactly what Steve was planning and shot again without needing to be told, this time directly into the break in one of the tanks. The soldiers stopped firing as they realized what was about to happen. Faster than he ever knew even he could move, Steve repositioned them; he pulled the man against him and put his shield between them and the explosion. He held the man tightly and had to use all of his strength to prevent them from being thrown back. He could feel the man clinging to him, ducking his head against his chest for protection. There was no way to tell if it would be enough. Steve couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t even know if the bridge would hold. He could do nothing but hold on. Pray. And wait.

When he could open his eyes again he moved quickly and scanned the area. The soldiers were dead and Schmidt was nowhere to be seen. As usual, he seemed to have vanished the moment things weren’t going his way. Steve didn’t have time to worry about him; he needed to get out of there and get his companion to safety. Him and the hundreds of others waiting outside. He hoped his team had made it.

The other man looked up at Steve slowly, “We alive?”  
Steve half-laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Are you okay?”  
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”  
Helping him to his feet, Steve looked him over; his left ear was bleeding slightly but other than that there didn’t seem to be any further damage. “Can you move?”  
“Yeah.”

The bridge had held but wouldn’t for much longer. The room had become an inferno. No doubt the entire place would collapse any moment. The other man’s legs gave out after a few steps and he fell without warning, a pained sound escaping him. The bridge was breaking; Steve could feel it slowly giving way beneath their feet. Running out of options, he hoisted the man up by his shoulders and threw him forward to the platform at the end of the bridge. He landed with a grunt but didn’t move to pick himself up. Steve ran, jumping just as the bridge collapsed; he barely managed to grab hold of the platform’s edge.

Panting, he began to pull himself up when the edge of the platform crumbled beneath his hand. Steve didn’t have time to wonder how so many things could go wrong before a pair of hands grasped his wrist, stopping his fall. He looked up to see the other man above him, struggling to hold him up. Steve reached out with his free hand and took hold of the ledge, easily pulling himself up onto it.

“Are you alright?” He asked, surprised the other man had had the strength to stop him from falling.  
He forced a laugh, “Startin’ to get real tired of that question, Captain.”  
Steve snickered, “Good.”

He helped him to his feet, half-carrying him through the exit. Outside, he was relieved to see that his team and the other prisoners seemed to have been able to fight their way through. With the facility crumbling to pieces after the explosion and most of the enemy soldiers already dead, it didn’t take long for them to get to where the others were waiting anxiously.

“Cap!” Dugan called, waving him over, “What the hell was that explosion?”  
“We had to improvise.” Steve said, relieved to see all of his team there to greet him. “Did everyone make it?”  
“We’re all here. And we took the liberty of borrowing a few guns and trucks from the Hydra.” Falsworth replied.  
Jones laughed, “Yeah, we didn’t think it’d mind too much.”  
Steve nodded, “I’m sure it’ll understand. In the meantime, we need get moving. It’s a long way to the extraction point.”  
“You gonna carry me the whole way, Cap?” The man with him joked.  
“Ah, sorry.” Steve shifted and loosened his grip so the man could stand on his own.  
“If you’re hurt,” Morita said, “you can ride in one of the trucks instead of walking.”  
“No, thank you, but I can walk.” The man replied.  
“Are you sure?” Morita questioned. “You look like you could use the rest.”  
The man shook his head, “Been cooped up in a cell the size of a broom closet for days. These legs need stretching.”  
“Fair enough.” Steve said, grinning a little. This man certainly had spirit; Steve liked him already. “Everyone listen up! We’re heading to the extraction point. I know a lot of you are injured and you’re all tired and hungry, but we need to move as quickly as possible. Help each other out; keep your eyes on one another. If you need to stop, speak up. I don’t want anyone dropping or getting left behind. Now let’s move!”  
“That’s a great speech there, Captain.” The man commented as they began walking.  
Steve snickered, “Thanks.” He watched the man carefully as they walked, ready to catch him if he fell again. Despite his unsteadiness, though, he was able to keep up without much trouble. “And you can call me Steve, by the way.”  
The man smirked, “That so? Well, it’s nice to meet you, Steve. Name’s Bucky.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of ableism, abduction and trauma, and some really bad flirting ahead, you've been warned.

The half-day’s walk to the extraction point was, thankfully, uneventful. They were picked up without incident, brought safely back to civilization. Steve only had a short time to spend with his team before he needed to get back to business. He changed from his famed costume into his formal uniform, knowing Colonel Phillips would want his report as soon as possible. He gave as much detail as he could, explaining everything that he’d done and seen on his mission. 

It didn’t take long, as there wasn’t much new information, and Steve was soon free to go. Free time was empty time for Steve, though, and he planned to fill it training and thinking up new strategies. It wasn’t a healthy way to live, he knew, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to go back to spending his little bit of free time actually relaxing.

“Steve, we need to talk.” Agent Carter said, meeting up with him in the hallway and pulling him form his thoughts.  
“Okay. That doesn’t sound good. Did I do something, Peggy?” Steve asked.  
Peggy shook her head, “No, Steve. And that is exactly what we need to talk about.”  
“I’m not following.” Steve replied.  
“It’s been more than a year since us,” Peggy explained, stepping into her office and shutting the door once Steve followed, “and you haven’t as much as looked at another person.”  
“Peggy,”  
She cut him off, “No, Steve. I already know your excuses; our mission is too important to focus on anything else, it’s too dangerous for anyone to be involved with me, I just don’t want to look right now. And that may fool some of the others, but I know you. If you were genuinely happy on your own and simply not interested in romance right now it would be fine, but that’s not you. You’re lonely, Steve, you want to connect with someone and fall in love again. And not the way you love the team. You want what we had back, only this time you want it to last.”  
Steve sighed and leaned against Peggy’s desk, “You really do know me too well.”  
“I do. And I’m not about to let you continue on like you have; dedicating every waking moment to the fight, never taking the time to enjoy yourself. It’s wearing you down. The others might not notice it yet, but they will soon.”  
“And then every single one of them will be trying to set me up with someone.” Steve said.  
“We all worry about you, Steve. We all love you.” Peggy moved closer and gently rested her hand on his face, “I love you with all my heart, and nothing will ever change that. It may not have worked between us, but I still love you. And I still want you to be happy. It hurts to see you in pain, Steve.”  
Steve covered Peggy’s hand with his own, “I still love you, too, Peggy. And I want you to be happy too.”  
“Then stop moping around and go join the rest of the team at the pub. Have fun. Talk to someone new, flirt, kiss. Have a one night stand if you must. Put yourself back out there, Steve. You deserve to find someone.”  
“So do you.” Steve pointed out.  
Peggy laughed quietly, “Yes but unlike you I really am satisfied with just work. And also unlike you, I’ve still been out to enjoy myself once in a while since our breakup.”  
Steve grinned, “Have you?”  
She pinched his face lightly, “Yes, I have. And you need to start doing the same. I know the only times you ever do anything outside of all this is when you’re forced, so that’s what I’m going to do now.”  
With a sigh, Steve nodded, “Alright, alright. I get it, Peggy. Doctors gave the team the all-clear so they’re out at the pub tonight. If it’ll put your mind at ease, I’ll join them.”  
“Damn right, you will.” Peggy said. She turned away from him and pulled open the door, “Now get out of here and go enjoy yourself.”  
Steve laughed, “Oh, yes ma’am.”  
Before he could walk out, Peggy grabbed his arm and leaned up to kiss his check, “Good luck, Steve. Just make sure you’re ready for tomorrow’s meeting.”  
“Eight hundred hours?”  
“I’ll see you there.”

Steve’s smile faded as he walked away from her. He knew she was right, he needed to put himself back out there and find someone. He just didn’t know how he could. For twenty-one years he had been overlooked and ignored by virtually everyone he attempted to flirt with. Even making friends had been difficult, despite his openness and affable attitude. He supposed people just weren’t interested in spending time with a man who appeared ready to keel over any second. That had changed four years ago when the Hydra reemerged in Europe and started its war once again. It was then he met Peggy and Dr. Abraham Erskine, the scientist who had changed his life forever. 

The changes made to him had certainly made him more popular, but not always in the way Steve had hoped. He was grateful, of course, that he was now able to protect others and stand up to bullies without simply getting beaten half to death. He could make a difference in the fight to keep humanity from being enslaved by the Hydra. Captain America gave the world hope, inspired the tired and long-enduring people that had already been fighting for so long. Soldiers in militaries and fighters in their own independent resistances.

But there was a price to being Captain America, the hero known not only for rescuing captives and liberating towns, but also for surviving a fight with the Hydra itself, something no one had ever done before. There were those who could no longer see him for Steve Rogers. Those who expected him to be nothing more than the symbol of hope and freedom, not a person with his own thoughts and desires. Too many people seemed to care only for the idea of him.

Peggy and his team were some of the few who still knew Steve as a person instead of just the famous shield-wielding super-soldier. And though he and Peggy had dated for nearly two years, they found themselves growing into different people as time went by. Eventually, they chose to end their romance, choosing instead to continue loving one another as friends. Peggy, Steve knew, was better able to live for the mission than he was. Far better. So he could do nothing but take her advice—command, really—and try to find romance again.

It was still fairly early in the evening when he entered the pub and made his way to his team’s usual table. As he walked, someone sitting at the bar caught his attention. It was a man sitting alone, his back to Steve and seemingly minding his own business as he drank. He couldn’t get a good enough look to be sure, but he thought he recognized him. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye but was only able to see a glimpse of his profile. There was no way to be certain, but he felt confident he was the man he’d rescued from the isolation ward. Bucky, if he recalled the name correctly. Briefly, Steve considered approaching him. Instead, he continued on toward his team, deciding it was best to let the man be. He was probably waiting for someone anyway.

“Evening, fellas,” Steve greeted, sitting down with his team, “what's cooking?”  
“Hey, hey, look who’s here!” Jones laughed. “About time you decided to join us again!”  
“Agent Carter had a few persuasive words to offer.” Steve admitted.  
“Bet she did.” Dugan snickered.  
Steve cleared his throat, “Anyway. How’re you guys doing?”  
“We spent a week and a half working in one of the Hydra’s factories.” Morita said. “How d’you think we’re doing?”  
“Well,” Steve said, “knowing you all, I’d guess ready to get back into the fight by now.”  
“Of course we are.” Falsworth replied. “Can’t let a little thing like a near two-week stay in an enemy prison slow us down. Might give the Hydra ideas about us.”  
Dugan chuckled, “Like it doesn’t already? Let it think what it wants. Won’t make a single damn difference in the long run.”  
“It’ll be defeated,” Dernier agreed, “only this time for good!”  
“I don’t think the world will know what to do with itself if it’s not waiting around for the Hydra to come back.” Falsworth stated.  
“We’ll find out.” Steve said.  
“Hell yeah, we will.” Dugan declared.  
“Pardon me, boys,” One of the bartenders said, placing a new round on the table and nodding over her shoulder to the bar, “compliments of the gentleman in the brown jacket.”  
Steve looked to where she had nodded. Sure enough, the man he’d spotted on the way in was looking back at him, the very same one from the isolation ward. Their eyes locked for no more than a heartbeat before he smirked and turned back to his own drink. Steve stared at his back for a long moment, wondering about him. Bucky. It was an interesting name, not one he’d heard before. A nickname, he assumed. He wondered what it had been shortened from. And where was he from? He was American, that was for sure, but Steve wondered specifically where. And just where had he learned to shoot like that? Before Steve could fully lose himself in questions, the sound of barely-restrained laughter pulled him back to his own table, “What? What’s so funny?”  
“You could try being a _little_ more discreet, Steve.” Morita teased.  
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “Was it that bad? Didn’t mean to …stare.”  
Falsworth laughed, “You might’ve scared him to death if he’d turned back around.”  
“Yeah, then he won’t buy us anymore drinks.” Dugan said. “Mighty kind of ‘im.”  
“Probably just trying to express his gratitude.” Steve replied, not wanting to think more of the gesture.  
“More like trying to get you to come over so he can _show_ you his gratitude in person.” Dugan said, giving Steve a wink.  
Morita snickered, “Did you see the way he looked at Steve?”  
“Hard to miss.” Dernier replied.  
“Come on, guys, stop it. Guy was just being nice.” Steve said.  
“I doubt it.” Dernier stated. “I saw how he looked at you when we walked out of that place, too. I think he wants to get to know you better, Rogers.”  
“Speaking of,” Steve said, “do any of you know anything about him?”  
“Think he’s from New York.” Morita answered. “He mentioned something about it on the second or third day there; he was a few guys down from me on the assembly line. I mean before they dragged him off to isolation.”  
“What was his name; Bucky something?” Dugan asked.  
“Barnes,” Jones replied grimly, “Bucky Barnes. I caught a little bit of his debriefing. He’s a One-Oh-Seven.”

The table fell silent. Six years earlier, a ship known as the Oceanus traveling from England to the United States vanished inexplicably in the middle of the Atlantic. Though there were several searches, there were no traces of it. No signs of wreckage, no distress call had ever gone out. Eight months later it reappeared and reached port as though nothing had happened. Of the more than two thousand people it had been carrying, only one hundred and seven remained. The rest were never found. At first no one could believe them when they insisted the Hydra had been responsible; it had been presumed dead after its devastating loss in the last war. But when, one by one, they were plagued with misfortune and began to either disappear or die, there was little denying that the Hydra’s twisted magic had to be involved.

It was Steve who finally broke the silence, “Are you sure about that?”  
“I’m positive.” Jones replied.  
“God _damn_.” Dugan said. “A One-Oh-Seven. I didn’t think there were any of ‘em left.”  
Jones shook his head, “He’s the last one. The lone survivor.”  
“Well, some were never found, so they could be …” Morita trailed off, knowing none wanted to think about what fate the missing people had likely met.  
“Cursed.” Falsworth muttered. “The lot of them. Poor souls.”  
“No wonder he put up such a fight when they took him to isolation.” Dugan commented.  
Steve looked over at Bucky again; he still had his back to them with no one sitting next to him. Making his decision, Steve finished his drink and stood up, “I’m going to go talk to him.”  
“Is that a good idea?” Dernier questioned.  
“I guess I’ll find out.” He replied. Well aware that they were watching him as inconspicuously as they could, Steve walked over to where Bucky was sitting. When he reached him he leaned forward so that he was at eye level, “Mind if I join you?”  
“I was starting to worry you wouldn’t.” Bucky replied, not looking at him.  
Steve sat down beside him, “Sorry about that, had to finish up a few things.”  
Bucky shook his head, still not looking at him, “No, it’s fine. I figured it was a long shot anyway. Captain America has to have better things to do than have a drink with this kid.”  
“It’s Steve. And what do you mean, kid? How old are you?”  
“Three hundred sixteen.” Bucky said. “Give or take a year.”  
Steve laughed, “What?”  
Bucky smiled and finally turned to look at him, “I’m twenty-six. But let’s just keep that between us, shall we?”  
“I’ll take it my grave.” Steve joked. “So tell me, Bucky, what’s your story?”  
“Story?” Bucky questioned. “What makes you think there’s a story?”  
“Well you’re not military,” Steve said, “and yet they had you in isolation. And that’s not something that happens without a story.”  
Bucky looked away and picked up his drink, “You’re a perceptive one, Steve.”  
“Well? If you don’t wanna tell me just say so. It’s none of my business.”  
“Truth be told I don’t even know anymore. One minute you’re the best knife thrower in town, the next you’re being dragged off by the Hydra’s soldiers, then suddenly you’re sharing a drink with Captain America.”  
“Steve.”  
“Right. Sorry.” Bucky downed his drink and looked back at him, “Guess that’s not what you were looking for, though, is it?”  
Steve shrugged, “It’s your business what you wanna tell me.”  
“No, no, I uh …I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. You saved my life and here I am being rude.” Bucky said. “Mind if we start that over?”  
“Should I get up and come back?” Steve teased.  
Bucky snickered, “If that’s what makes you happy. Okay, let’s see …my story. What is my story? Well, folks died when I was young. Had to fend for myself. Figured out pretty quick that my best skill was my aim. Don’t like to brag but there’s never been a target I couldn’t shoot. Won a local knife throwing contest three years in a row. Then the Hydra showed up again. What’s it going by this time again?”  
“Schmidt.” Steve replied. “Johann Schmidt.”  
“Right, right. Well anyway, Schmidt shows up and takes over half of Europe and well …here we are.”  
“Here we are.” Steve agreed. He knew there was more to Bucky’s story, a lot more. But he wasn’t about to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to.  
“To be honest,” Bucky went on, “I’m more interested in hearing about you, Rogers.”  
“What about me?” Steve asked. “All the interesting stuff’s already been shown in newsreels.”  
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the ‘interesting’ stuff.” Bucky said. “Unless there’s nothing more to you than …what was it, the star spangled man with a plan?”  
Steve groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “I could kill whoever wrote that jingle.”  
“See, now that’s something interesting.” Bucky said. “I don’t really care that you’re the twenty-five year old once skinny kid from Brooklyn they injected with some super serum and now you can lift a car.”  
“I’m not sure if I could lift a car, actually.” Steve replied. “I’ve never tried that.”  
“Well you threw me pretty easily.”  
“I’m pretty sure you don’t weigh nearly as much as a car.” Steve stated. “Also, sorry about that.”  
Bucky smirked, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve been smacked around worse than that.”  
From the look in his eyes, Steve guessed he was referring to something more than his time of the battlefield. He considered questioning it, but decided it was best to move on, “So what _do_ you care about?”  
“How’d they rope you into being the lab rat?”  
“I …they didn’t …” Taken aback, Steve wasn’t sure how to answer. No one had ever asked him how he had wound up being used for Project: Rebirth and changed from the skinny, sickly kid he’d been to the famed super soldier. Everyone seemed content to believe he’d simply signed up and been selected with no fuss, no problems at all. And they certainly didn’t make mention of how he had, essentially, been a lab rat. He didn’t like to think of it that way, and he knew Dr. Erskine had never viewed him that way, but he couldn’t deny that that was ultimately what he’d been. “I wasn’t ‘roped’ into it. Dr. Erskine offered me the chance and I took it. He told me what the serum would do to me, what the risks were. I knew it was dangerous but …”  
“But you wanted to take on Schmidt?”  
Steve shook his head, “It wasn’t about fighting the enemy, really. It was …so many of my neighbors were getting notices that their parents and siblings and children were captured or killed and I …I couldn’t take watching it anymore. I wanted to be able to protect them. I don’t like bullies, and as far as I’m concerned, the Hydra is the biggest one out there.”  
Bucky stared at him for a moment, as though unsure how to respond. It seemed that wasn’t an answer he’d been expecting. Finally he looked away, “That’s probably the best way I’ve ever heard anyone talk about the Hydra.”  
“Just how I see it.” Steve admitted, scratching the back of his neck.  
For a brief instant it seemed Bucky was going to say something else, but he quickly changed the subject, “So tell me, Cap, you rationed?”  
“No, I’m single.” Steve replied. “I’m a sad, lonely little man.”  
Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Little?”  
“Okay, maybe not little. But I am a sad and lonely man.” Steve said.  
Bucky leaned closer to him, “What a shame. But maybe I could help you with that.”  
“Would you?”  
“Well it’s the least I could do,” Bucky said, his fingers resting on Steve’s thigh, “after you saved my life.”  
“I _did_ save your life.” Steve admitted.  
“You wanna get out of here?”  
Steve glanced over his shoulder to where his friends were pretending not to watch him, “Yeah. I do.”


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features discussion of ableism, past bullying, past trauma, extremely minor sexual content, a time skip, minor character death, and mind control.

Steve let Bucky lead him to a hotel nearby. They had barely stepped into the room when Bucky grabbed Steve by his tie and crashed their lips together. Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist and pulled him closer. When they parted to breathe, he moved his hands to his shoulders and slid Bucky’s jacket off of him. Bucky pulled him further into the room, undoing Steve’s tie as he did so. Steve rested his hand on the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him in to kiss him again, his other hand reaching up the back of his shirt. He could feel Bucky undoing the buttons of his uniform, and broke off the kiss just long enough to remove it along with his shoes. At the same time, Bucky slipped out of his own shirt and kicked his shoes off, then wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, and yanked him down onto the bed on top of him.

As their lips met again, Steve let his hands wander over Bucky’s bare chest. His muscles were lean, his skin smooth. Bucky’s hands were at Steve’s back, tugging at his shirt. Steve allowed him to pull it over his head and off of him, then returned to attacking his mouth. Bucky’s hands were all over him now, touching every inch he could reach. He shuddered when Steve kissed his neck and rubbed himself against him. Steve reached for Bucky’s belt, his fingers brushing along a thick, short scar at his hip as he did.

Despite the situation, a thousand questions flooded Steve’s mind. What had made that scar? How long had it been there? Was there a long tale behind it, or some silly trivial thing? Had it come from his time on the Oceanus? Just what _had_ happened in those eight months they were missing? There was so much he wanted to know about Bucky, so much he wouldn’t find out if all they had was one night.

“Wait, wait a minute.” He said, pulling away from him.  
“It’s okay,” Bucky replied, nodding toward the bedside table, “I have rubbers.”  
Steve shook his head, “That’s not it. I can’t do this. I changed my mind.”  
“Oh …” Bucky’s face fell. “Well then …okay, I’m …embarrassed …”  
“No!” Steve straightened up fully, “Don’t be, please. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have …it’s not you,”  
“It’s not you it’s me? _Really?_ ” Bucky sat up. “If you didn’t want to sleep with me you didn’t have to come back here.”  
“That’s not what I meant.” Steve said. “It’s not that I don’t want to. God knows, I do.”  
“Then what’s the problem?”  
“I, um …I don’t want this to be _it_. Just this one night.”  
“You don’t want to sleep with me now, because you want to sleep with me later?” Bucky questioned. “You …you do know that can be arranged, right?”  
Steve sighed, “That’s not it. I don’t _just_ want to sleep with you. I know, it’s ridiculous. You don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I feel like I want more than just one night. I want to get to know you, Bucky. For real. And I don’t think that can happen if we start off like this.”  
Face softening, Bucky glanced away and back at him again, “You wanna get to know me, Cap?”  
Rubbing his face, Steve nodded, “It sounded less pathetic in my head.”  
“You wanna get to know me?” Bucky asked again, biting down on his lip as though to hold back a smile.  
“Am I really _that_ bad?” Steve asked. Judging by Bucky’s reaction, it seemed to be the very last thing he’d ever expected to hear from him.  
“No.” Bucky said. “I just …it’s been a really long time since anyone’s said that to me.”  
“How long is a long time?” Steve asked.  
“Years.” Bucky admitted.  
“No one’s asked to get to know you in years? Then how did you …who were you with? How did you wind up over here?”  
“I’m a good shot.” Bucky said. “There’s always a resistance looking for a good sniper. Go from town to town on what they pay me, take assignments when I get them. Meet plenty of people along the way, but it’s always a passing thing. Haven’t had anyone want to get to know me, though. Not since …”  
“Since what?”  
He shook his head, “No, it’s nothing. Just a long, long time.”  
“And you just …travel around, looking for people who need your skills to fight the Hydra?”  
“Well when you put it that way it sounds sad and pathetic, but yes.”  
“So you’re a mercenary.” Steve said.  
“I prefer to think of myself as a free-lance bad guy killer.” Bucky replied.  
“Why not just enlist?” Steve asked. “You’ve got incredible skill. Is there some …medical complication?”  
He shook his head, “No, nothing like that. I just didn’t. Didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”  
“Why not?”  
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m just not a fan of the whole concept. Sure, you got plenty of good people there, but the higher ups? Nothing but a bunch of greedy old geezers sending kids off to their deaths. Even a good cause like fighting the Hydra is a way for them to get what they want. They don’t really care about people’s lives, they just want power.”  
Steve nodded, “Yeah, you’re right about that.”  
“What?”  
“I said you’re right.”  
“But …but you …you’re …” Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure how to respond. “You’re _Captain America_.”  
“No,” Steve disagreed, “I’m Steve Rogers. I know what everyone thinks of me. American hero, discipline and rules and patriotism and all that. But that’s not me. That’s just an image they use to boost morale and if it helps give some people courage, I’ll let them use it. I don’t like everything the military does. Hell, I don’t like everything America does. But right now, I need to compromise to get the job done. Sticking with the Allies is the best way to do that.”  
“Well, hot damn.” Bucky chuckled. “America’s golden boy isn’t so golden.”  
“I may be an idealist, but I’m no fool. I grew up sick and poor. I know those bad places and I know the people on top have no intention of fixing them. I want to change that, and sometimes that means making that change from the inside out.”  
“Looks like there’s a lot more to you than I thought, Steve.”  
“Not really.” Steve confessed. “That’s about it; I just told you everything. I put everything out there on my sleeve. Don’t know any other way to be.”  
“I’m starting to see why everyone trusts you so much.”  
“What, you didn’t before?”  
“Sure, you seemed like a swell enough guy. You could’ve left me back there to die, but you saved my life instead. I just …I don’t know, I figured some part of it had to be grandstanding. Come from wanting the glory of being a hero, you know?”  
Steve smirked at him, “Sorry to prove you wrong. Personally I’d rather be out of the spotlight. My job involves killing, a lot of it. And that part …well, that never makes it into the reels, does it? Doesn’t inspire hope to see a lot of people die. They may be the Hydra’s people, but they’re still people. It’s not something I enjoy.”  
“You really are a good guy, Steve.” Bucky said.  
Steve shrugged, “I’m just trying to keep people hoping. My mom always said that was the most important thing.”  
“Your mom?”  
Steve nodded, “Sarah. She …my dad, Joseph ...I didn’t really know him. She said he was a good man, but weak. He lost hope. He drank. He yelled. I don’t think he ever hit her—she never said—but he broke down. Died when I was just a baby, so she raised me on her own. She worked two jobs and still managed to find time for me. No matter how bad things go, even when she was _dying_ , she never gave up hope. And she kept telling me that as long as I held onto hope too, I could make it.”  
Bucky looked away from him again, “She sounds like she was a good person.”  
“She was.” There was a long pause and Steve cleared his throat, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to start reminiscing on you there.”  
“It’s okay. It’s interesting.” Bucky said, looking back at him and offering a grin. “You look cute when you reminisce.”  
Steve laughed, “Well then I’ll do it more often.”  
“You should. You’re a lot more fascinating than the newsreels would have everyone believe.”  
“I don’t know about that.” Steve said. “But I’m willing to share, if you want to hear.”  
“I do want to hear.” Bucky replied.  
“Then ask. Go ahead. Anything you’d like to know about.”  
“Alright,” Still grinning, Bucky licked his lips, “tell me about your first day at school.”

With a laugh, Steve began to recount the tale. It wasn’t particularly interesting, at least not to Steve. Most of the day had been uneventful. His classmates had mostly ignored him, likely fearful that they would catch one of his many ailments. It wasn’t easy to explain to a classroom of five-year-olds that one couldn’t catch asthma or colorblindness or anemia from another person. He endured it, though, kept a smile on his face and continued trying to make friends. It wasn’t until Robert Smith started pushing Johnny Wilson into the dirt at recess that anyone paid him any attention. Of course, when a large and powerful kid beats up the skinny weak kid, it tends to get attention.

Steve watched Bucky’s face while he listened; he seemed to be absorbing every detail as though the story were some great adventure. He suspected Bucky’s childhood had been vastly different than his, by the interest he seemed to hold in it. Although Steve wanted to hear about it, he didn’t want to push Bucky into talking yet. It was clear by the way he had moved the subject along that he wasn’t ready to open up to him. Steve hoped that if he opened up first, it would encourage Bucky to do the same. There was something about him that mesmerized Steve, and he wanted to know him.

He wanted to know where he had come from. What it was like for him growing up. He’d already told him that he was orphaned at a young age. He wondered how. What sort of condition had he been left in? He’d also said he had to look after himself, so Steve suspected he hadn’t been brought to an orphanage like he had after his mother's death. He didn’t think he lived in a city if his marksmanship had really been so useful to his survival.

“So what did your mom say when you got home?” Bucky asked when Steve finished his story.  
“Not much. Said I did the right thing. But to be more careful next time. I was already getting sick all the time and everything, so the last thing we needed was for me to get hurt.” Steve replied.  
“Were you?”  
“Was I what?”  
“More careful.”  
Steve laughed, “Not as careful as I should’ve been. I spent many a year getting beat up in someone else’s place. I guess I just can’t help myself. Someone’s in trouble, I step in.”  
“I noticed that.” Bucky said. “Would’ve been nice knowing someone like you when I was growing up. Hell, I probably would’ve given you a hand; I’m a real sucker for dumb kids who don’t know when to back down.”  
“Is that a fact?”  
Nostalgia flickered across Bucky’s face and he laid himself flat on his back, “Yeah. They always getcha into trouble, but I never learn.”  
“Well I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble, would I?”  
Bucky smirked, “In your case, what you do, it might just be worth it.”

1987

_He watches his target carefully through his scope from his place on the water tower. It’s pitch black out; no one would see him even if they were looking. The target is a middle-aged Korean-American male. Middle school teacher. Married. One female child attending a local community college. No history of arrests. Politically independent. Runs a mildly popular newsletter. He doesn’t know why this man is his target. It makes no difference. Something about him is considered a level five threat in the overall picture. If allowed to live, he will put the world in danger. He has to be stopped now._

_The target is with a small group of people outside of a bowling alley. They go there every week. The file goes back almost twelve year, and he’s been watching him for almost a month, so he knows exactly what to expect from this target. Soon he’ll leave the group and walk to his car. From there, he’ll watch the rest of them leave. The bowling alley is closed now, so there will be no one else around. He’ll sit on the hood of his car for a few minutes to smoke a cigarette or two, then get in his car and head home._

_He’s infinitely patient as he watches the target talk with his group. He can see them laughing together, none having a single concern about what dangers lurked among them. He doesn’t know if any of these people is also a threat, but if they are he will be told to eliminate them as well. It’s a dirty job but he needs to do it, to keep the world safe._

_His target says something to his group, turns away. He keeps his focus on him as he walks toward his car, then leans against it. Within minutes there is no one left but his target. He waits a moment until he is certain there isn’t a person left within earshot. He pulls the trigger. The target falls. He waits. The target does not move. He waits._

_He waits._

_The target is dead._

_The mission is successful._

_He climbs down from the tower, slips into the darkness. There is nothing left to do now but report in. Hope that He is pleased. If He is, then all will be well. If not, then it means there is still a threat out there that he needs to eliminate. It is his sole duty to eliminate any and all threats to Him. After all, a threat to Him is a threat to the world. If he cannot eliminate threats, there is no purpose to him._

_A car waits for him a few blocks from the water tower. He opens the read passenger door and slips inside, where his handler is waiting. He is silent as their driver starts the car and pulls away, knowing better than to speak first. Any unprompted action is unacceptable. If his behavior is deemed inappropriate, he will be sent for repairs and put away. He doesn’t want to be put away. He can’t handle knowing the disappointment He’ll feel if he has to be put away. Not again._

_Target?” His handler questions after several minutes._  
_“Eliminated.” He replies. Short, simple answers are best._  
_“Were you seen?”_  
_“No.”_  
_“Are you sure?”_  
_“Yes.”_  
_“Good.” His handler nods. “You did good. He’ll be proud.”_  


_He relaxes. A hint of pride begins to leak into him. Nothing makes him happier than making Him proud. Nothing makes him prouder of himself than knowing He is proud of him. Nothing else matters. Not his targets and their misdeeds. Not his handler. Not all the innocent people depending on him to make the world safer for them. Only Him._

_The drive lasts more than hour. They’re in a far more secluded area now, with few signs of civilization anywhere. Eventually, they reach a large manor by a lakeside. The main house is surrounded by several smaller buildings, once probably used as servant’s quarters and the like._

_“We’re here, sir.” The driver says as they pull into the garage. “Should I go ahead?”_  
_His handler nods, “Yeah, go on. I’ll be there soon.”_  
_“Yes sir.” The driver replies, turning off the car and stepped out._  
_His handler waits until the driver had gone into the main house before turning to him. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from his face, takes hold of his chin gently and leans in close to whisper in his ear, “Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”_  



	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features brief domestic violence and my blatant lack of knowledge as to how the military actually works.  
> Let me know your thoughts! :)

1943

The sun was peaking through the blinds when Steve woke up in the morning. He looked over at Bucky, who was still asleep beside him. They had spent the night talking, eventually falling asleep mid-conversation. At least, Steve had spent the night talking; Bucky had mostly listened to his stories of childhood. He told him about how frequently he dealt with Robert Smith and others who felt entitled to push the other kids around. He told him about the times when his mother would take him with her to her second job cleaning houses, how she taught him the best way to scrub dishes and fold laundry. He talked about all the times he spent on the street corners selling newspapers and trying to avoid having the little bit of money he made stolen away. Steve didn’t think they were particularly interesting stories, but Bucky had listened intently all night, asking him for more details and what happened next.

Steve learned very little about Bucky in return. He liked the color blue. He disliked oranges. He liked dancing. He disliked card games. He liked Donald Duck better than Mickey Mouse. He had a pet cat named Butter as a child. He was eleven when his parents died, though he didn’t say how. Steve wondered what sort of life he’d lived that made him so private a person. He was so closed off, yet so charming at the same time. In his sleep, curled up on his side, he looked almost relaxed, yet still ready to spring at a moment’s notice. He was certain there was so much more to him than he let on. Definitely someone he wanted to really get to know. He wondered if he could convince him to join his team.

Mild panic washed over Steve as he remembered the meeting he was supposed to be at. He sat up slowly, not wanting to wake Bucky, and looked over at the clock on the bedside table; it was after seven-thirty. Carefully he climbed out of the bed and began picking up his clothes. He was buttoning his uniform when Bucky began to stir.

He groaned and pushed himself up slightly, “Steve?”  
“Over here.”  
Bucky rubbed his eyes and looked over at him, “You leaving?”  
Steve nodded, “I have a meeting to get to. I’m sorry.”  
“No,” Bucky shook his head, “no it’s alright. You gotta you, you gotta go. M’used to it.”  
“It’s not like that.” Steve said quickly, sitting back down at the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t gonna just ditch you, you know.”  
Bucky sat up all the way, “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to,”  
Steve placed his hand over his mouth, “Bucky. I am not walking out on you. Look, I dunno what kinda people you’re used to, but I don’t walk out on people. When I said I want to get to know you, I meant it.”  
“You really did, didn’t you?”  
Steve nodded, “I did. I still do. I’d like to see you again, Bucky. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”  
Bucky offered him a smile, “Come back here tonight. I won’t be going anywhere.”  
“I’ll be here.”

Once Steve left the hotel he hurried through the streets, knowing he’d be in for serious trouble if he was late for the meeting. None of his superiors worried him, but Peggy would be furious with him over it. She hated it when he was late for anything, even if she had been the one to insist he go out the night before. He hoped she would let it go once he told her about Bucky and how he had plans to see him again.

“There he is!” Dugan laughed when arrived just over five minutes late. “You have a good night, Cap?”  
“That’s not important right now, Dum Dum.” Steve said, taking his place at the table. “We have work to do.”  
“We could have gotten started already if you’d shown up on time.” Peggy stated, not looking up from the papers in front of her.  
“Sorry.” Steve replied.  
“Alright, Rogers,” Colonel Phillips said, “save it for later. Let’s get started.”

Steve pushed all thoughts of Bucky and how to apologize to Peggy for being late out of his head. He focused on the discussion of how to carry on now that he’d rescued his team and what Schmidt was most likely to do next. The factory had been almost entirely destroyed in the explosion, leaving one less facility for them to worry about. Unfortunately, they knew Schmidt wouldn’t take such a loss sitting down; there was most certainly going to be some retaliation soon. He only hoped it wouldn’t involve civilians. Too many of them had died already.

“So how’d it go?” Morita asked him when the meeting ended. They were still at the table, none of them particularly wanting to leave yet.  
“That’s right; the boys said you’d gone off with a handsome young fella last night.” Howard said. He gave him a sly wink, “You have a good time?”  
“Not the way you think.” Steve replied. “We just talked.”  
“You and Mr. Barnes?” Peggy questioned.  
Steve looked at her, “How did you,”  
She dropped a folder down on the table in front of him, “People talk, Steve. I hear them. Collecting information _is_ one of my specialties.”  
“So you put together a file on him?” Steve asked.  
“Not much to put together.” Peggy replied. “Other than the Oceanus’s disappearance and few exceptionally well-done missions the United States pretends they didn’t hire him for, there’s very little about him.”  
Steve looked down at the folder, “What missions?”  
“See for yourself.” Peggy said.

Steve hesitated for a moment before opening it. He didn’t want to invade Bucky’s privacy by looking through his file, but he was still hoping to have him join the team. If he was going to do that, he would need to know more about him. He supposed there wasn’t much in the file that Bucky would be concerned about, if Peggy was so willing to hand it over to him. Taking a deep breath he opened the file.

Bucky was born on Long Island in nineteen seventeen. Following the death of his parents he was left in the care of his grandmother, though she died only two years later. After that was a long gap until the disappearance of the Oceanus. His report of the incident was short, yet most of it was blacked out. All Steve learned from it was that he had gone to Europe to find a relative and was returning home when the ship was taken. Bucky was watched, Steve was unsurprised but unsettled to find, for almost a year after that. That year saw him evicted from his Bronx apartment, fired from two factories, and arrested for a robbery that he was several weeks later found to have not committed. 

Shortly after he was released from police custody, it seemed he ceased to be of interest and he was no longer watched. The next piece of information was a list of missions, as Peggy had said. Like his report of the Oceanus’s disappearance, the details had been blacked out. Whatever he’d been brought in for, it was too sensitive even for their eyes. Finally, there was the captivity Steve had liberated him from. He didn’t read that; he didn’t want to know what had happened to Bucky in that place without his consent.

Closing the file, Steve looked back at Peggy, “Not much here.”  
“Like I said, officially they never happened.” Peggy replied.  
“Why do you have this?” Steve asked. “I can’t imagine you went and got it just because I went back to his hotel with him.”  
Peggy shook her head, “No, I didn’t. Colonel Phillips wanted it after his debriefing. He thinks he might be of use to us.”  
“He wants to recruit him? Steve questioned.  
“He does.”  
Steve laughed, “Well, that saves me the trouble of convincing him. At least, it does if Bucky accepts the offer.”  
“It’s being extended as we speak.” Peggy said.  
“Of course it is.” Steve sighed.  
“What did you expect? Of course he’s being more thoroughly investigated, but it seems like other than his apparent lack of interest in a military career, he’s perfect for this team.”  
“I’m not sure he’ll accept the offer.” Steve admitted. “I was hoping to talk to him about myself.”  
“Well,” Peggy stood up and gave him a sly smirk, “if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll still write you.”  
“Hilarious.” Steve muttered, watching her walk out of the room.  
“So what really happened last night?” Dugan asked, reminding Steve that the rest of them were still there.  
“I told you,” Steve replied, “we just talked.”  
“You don’t think we believe that, do you, Rogers?” Falsworth questioned.  
“It’s the truth.” Steve insisted. “We were going to but …then we started talking. And that was it.”  
Morita laughed, “You went off with a dish like that and just talked? I’m not even attracted to men and I find that hard to believe.”  
“Hey, if Cap says they just talked, they just talked.” Jones said. “We all know he’s a lousy liar anyway.”  
Steve rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the support, Gabe.”  
“Anytime.” Jones teased, getting a laugh from the rest of the team. Steve couldn’t help but laugh along with them.

The rest of the day was spent preparing to return to the field. They would be leaving the next morning, and everything needed to be ready. There were plans to be made, new equipment to be tested, and much more before they moved on to finding the next Hydra facility. It was an exhausting process; every time they destroyed one, two more seemed to appear in its place. Then again, that was the Hydra’s very boast, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He knew it was unreasonable to expect to so easily defeat a demon that had plagued humanity for centuries, but he had always been an optimist.

It was early in the evening, the sun just beginning to set, when Steve finally made his way back to Bucky’s hotel. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived; there was a chance Bucky would be upset with him after the visit he’d apparently had this morning. He hoped he would understand that Steve had had nothing to do with it. Even better, he hoped that Bucky would accept the offer.

He tried to put it from his mind as he walked to the hotel. When he arrived, he was surprised to find the door to Bucky’s room was already partially open. Steve paused, and peaked inside; he couldn’t see Bucky, but against the wall he could see two shadows. One he assumed was Bucky, the other was closer to Steve’s size. He could hear their conversation, but wasn’t sure whether or not he should interrupt.

“…not to come around anymore?” Bucky was saying. Steve didn’t know what was going on; Bucky sounded angry.  
“Come on, Bucky, don’t be that way.” Steve didn’t recognize the other voice, but the man seemed irritated, as though they’d had this conversation before and he didn’t want to have it again. “I said I was sorry.”  
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Rum.” Bucky snapped. “I’m not doing this anymore. Now get out of here.”  
“Why? You got someone else coming? You seeing another man now, darling?” The man questioned, as though such a thing were impossible.  
“That’s none of your business.”  
Watching the shadows, Steve stiffened when he saw the man grab Bucky by his arms and pull him closer, “Stop that, Bucky. Don’t you know how worried I was when I heard you’d been kidnapped? I came all the way out here to find you, baby doll, and bring you home, and this is how you act?”  
“Yeah, I’m sure you were real concerned about me.” Bucky shrugged his arms off and stepped away from him. “I’m not going anywhere. Not with you.”  
“Why not?”  
“You know why not.”  
“Look,” The man’s voice grew harder, “I know I’m not perfect, but I never done anything to deserve you treating me like this, Bucky.”  
Bucky laughed disbelievingly, “Never done anything? I’ve got a few scars here that say otherwise!”  
“Don’t give me that.” The man pulled Bucky to him again, this time by his waist, “I know you like it. You always like it rough.”  
Bucky pushed himself away, more forcefully this time, “Rough? _Rough_? Rough is a few bruises after sex! It’s not winding up on the floor with a bloody nose and broken ribs every time you lose your temper, which is way too often!”  
“Now you’re just making things up. I never hurt you. Never laid a hand on you that you didn’t want. Didn’t ask me for. You know I love you.”  
Bucky’s shadow shifted as though he were shrinking into himself and his head lowered, “If you’re gonna hit me, just get it over with.” His voice was shaking.  
Steve almost rushed forward, but he stopped when the man reached out slowly and took hold of Bucky’s chin, tilting his head back up, “Don’t talk like that. I would never hurt you, Bucky. Never. Why do you always say that? Do you like to insult me? Are you trying to hurt me? It’s working.”  
“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispered.  
“C’mere, darling.” The man’s voice was softer now. Steve wanted to step in, but he couldn’t be sure Bucky would accept that. The last thing he wanted to do was risk making Bucky mad and driving him away.  
He watched him step closer to the man and allow himself to be embraced, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  
“Shh. Don’t cry. You know I hate to see you cry.”  
“Don’t do this …”  
The man pulled away from Bucky and rested on hand on his face, “Hush.”

Steve didn’t so much see the man hit Bucky so much as he instinctively felt it. His eyes hadn’t fully registered the sight of him pulling his hand away, of it balling into a fist and crashing into Bucky’s jaw, but he knew it was happening anyway. He neither heard nor saw Bucky fall to the floor, though he was aware that he had. He recognized that Bucky was cursing at the man, calling him out as the coward he was, but the words didn’t quite register to him.

He didn’t even fully notice his own movements as he yanked the man away and slugged him. All he knew was that he was now between Bucky and the man, who was now on the floor where Steve had been standing not a heartbeat earlier.

“Get out of here.” Steve’s voice was firm. He left no room for argument.  
“Who the hell,”  
_“Get out of here.”_  
“Steve,” Bucky panted, “Steve, it’s okay,”  
“The hell it is.” Steve didn’t care anymore whether Bucky would be upset over his interference. If he wanted to yell at him later, he’d allow it. At the moment, though, all Steve cared about was getting this man far away from him. “I told you to get out of here. And don’t come back. Don’t ever bother Bucky again. Don’t even _think_ about him, got it?”  
He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he seemed to recognize Steve, “You, you’re …shit.” 

The man scrambled to his feet and ran. A small part of Steve wanted to go after him, to make him pay for what he’d done. To make sure he would never hurt anyone else again. But taking care of Bucky was more important. He shoved the door closed and turned around, finding Bucky on his knees with his palm pressed against his jaw.

Steve knelt down in front of him, “Are you okay?”  
“What’re you doing here?” Bucky questioned. He was shaking, a few tears on his flushed face.  
Steve touched his shoulder, “I told you I’d be back, didn’t I?”  
“I know, I just …” Bucky looked away from him, “I didn’t want you to see that.”  
“I didn’t see anything.” Steve lied.  
Bucky forced a laugh, “You’re a terrible liar.”  
Steve nodded, “I’ve been told. Come here, lemme see that.”  
“It’s fine.” Bucky insisted. Still, he let Steve help him off the floor and get a better look at him. His mouth was bleeding a bit and he would have a bruise later, but it wasn’t serious. He sat at the edge of the bed as Steve walked to the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth, “How much did you see?”  
“I, uh …” Steve sat on the bed and wiped the blood off of Bucky’s chin. He didn’t want to admit he’d been standing outside the door listening, but knew it would be pointless to lie. He sighed, holding the cool cloth against Bucky’s face, “I heard a lot. I think. I don’t know how long he was here but I got at least a decent chunk of it. I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t have to apologize for any—”  
“I do, though. I knew what was going on in here but I just stood there. I should’ve stepped in sooner.”  
“That’s not your responsibility, Steve. You don’t have to look after me.” Bucky said, looking away from him again.  
“Maybe not, but standing by and doing nothing when you can help someone is just as bad as hurting them in the first place.”  
Bucky shook his head and took the washcloth from Steve, “It was my fault.”  
“No it wasn’t,”  
“It was.” Bucky said. “I shouldn’t have pushed him like I did. I know what he’s like and I knew it would’ve been better to just let him do what he wanted and then he’d go. But I …I guess I’m too stubborn for my own good.”  
Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “That does not make it your fault. If anything, it makes him even more of a bully! How did you even …no, I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”  
Bucky sighed, “It’s okay. You’ve more than earned it. It …I was young, maybe seventeen at the most. And he was …different than anyone I’d ever met. Exciting. Older. A real dreamboat. He took me places and showed me things I never even dreamed of. I could tell he was dangerous but I was …in a bad place. That’s no excuse, I know.”  
“You don’t _need_ excuses for what someone else did to you.” Steve said.  
“Are you always like this?” Bucky questioned.  
“Like what?”  
Bucky finally looked at him again, “So _encouraging_?”  
Steve smirked, “I don’t know. We spend a little more time together and you can tell me.”  
Bucky licked his lips, “Smooth.”  
“As close as I get to it.” Steve laughed. “How’s the jaw?”  
“S’okay.” Bucky said. “Thought those friends of yours were gonna do worse when they showed up out of the blue this afternoon. Scared me half to death before they told me what they were doing here.”  
“I’m sorry.” Steve said. “I swear, I had no idea about that.”  
“I know.”  
“Did you …”  
“Did I accept?” Bucky questioned. “I told them I’d think about it.”  
“And have you?”  
“A little. I could stand to use a bit more convincing, though. If you think you can.”  
“If I think I can.” Steve repeated. “Well, this may surprise you, Mr. Barnes, but I just so happen to be one of the most persuasive men on this planet.”  
Bucky grinned, “Is that a fact?”  
“I don’t like to brag, but …”  
“Let’s see then.” Bucky challenged. “Persuade me, Captain.”  
Steve smirked at him, “I plan to.” He stood up and extended his hand, “Come on. Get up.”  
Bucky looked up at him, “Where’re we going?”  
“You’ll see.”  
Taking his hand, Bucky let Steve pull him to his feet, “Then show me.”


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swapping over to Bucky's POV!  
> This chapter contains some angsty talk and violent but consensual sex.  
> (Comment if you like it pretty please?)

“Now, tell me again why we’re at this run down old restaurant?” Bucky questioned. “Figured Captain America would go to swankier places than this.”  
Steve snickered, “What, this place not good enough for you?”  
“It’s not exactly ‘persuading’ me to join you guys.”  
“Impatient, are we?” Steve teased. “Give it a minute.”  
“Alright …” Bucky said, unsure of what Steve was waiting for.

He glanced around the place; it wasn’t particularly interesting. Just a small, poorly lit restaurant that had clearly seen better days. Much better days. He couldn’t understand what was so special about it, but if Steve was so fond of the place there must’ve been far more to it than met the eye. There weren’t many other people there; a man and his young daughter two tables to their left, a middle-aged couple at the table in the right corner, three women perhaps a few years older than the two of them on the far side of the place.

It was quiet, with so few patrons. They were all minding their own business, paying no attention to the two of them. The food wasn’t anything to note, either. It was neither the best nor the worst Bucky had ever had. Overall, he could only describe the place as “nice enough”. He had to admit, though, he was intrigued by what would make Steve bring him there. He’d been so clearly trying to tone down his grin while they walked to the place, telling him about one of his earlier missions just after he’d become more than a propaganda show. He was quiet now, as they ate; Bucky watched him scribbling on a napkin, glancing up at him occasionally.

Finally, he looked up toward the counter and smiled, “Now, this is why we’re here.”  
“What?” Bucky followed his gaze, seeing an elderly woman arrive and sit down at the counter.  
“That,” Steve said, “is Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Arthur Smith.”  
“O-okay? I’m not following.”  
“She comes here every night at this time. She sits there, on her own, until they close up. Like she has every night for almost twenty years, since her husband and son were robbed and killed.” Steve said. He nodded at the man and his daughter, “That’s John and his daughter’s name is Carol. They’ll be leaving in half an hour or so. He’ll drop her off with her mother and go back to his flat. And those two, over in the corner, those’re the Millers. They won’t be leaving for a while now, but as the night goes on they’ll probably start arguing. Whatever it is, though, they’ll have resolved it by the time they head home; they can’t seem to decide whether they love each other or hate each other. And those three girls are Cynthia, Margaret, and Sarah. They’re sisters. Sometimes they stay late and sometimes they leave early. But they meet here once or twice a week, at least. They have since their parents died a few years ago. I wasn’t even sure if they’d be here tonight.”  
“That’s all well and good, Steve,” Bucky replied, “but I don’t know why you’re telling me any of this.”  
“After my first mission,” Steve explained, “my first _real_ mission, I was so overwhelmed by everything. People already knew ‘Captain America’ because of those silly shows and everything, but now people were talking about Steve Rogers too. I wasn’t just a name, some ridiculous gimmick made up to sell war bonds anymore. I’d actually done something.”  
“You saved four hundred people from one of the Hydra’s prisons.” Bucky stated. “I remember reading about that.”  
Steve nodded, “People talked about it like it was this great thing, but it …I wouldn’t have done it if the Hydra’s forces hadn’t attacked us on the road. I wouldn’t have even had any idea where the factory was otherwise.”  
“You still saved them all, Steve.”  
“Point is, everyone got this idea of me as this …this great hero. I didn’t know how to handle it. I was so used to being ignored. Sure, people liked me before that, but that was little kids and people who needed something cheap to smile at. This was nothing I’d ever experienced before. No one but Dr. Erskine and Peggy had ever paid me any real attention until then. Everything was changing so fast. I was afraid it’d all go to my head. I went out walking one day when we were back here, regrouping and reporting. I got lost and ended up in this place.” Steve said. “Something about it …I don’t know, it just felt right.”  
“Right?”  
“It felt like I belonged. It’s not that I don’t feel at home with the Commandos and with Peggy, but there’s always been something I couldn’t fill. All of these people, they’re almost the only ones who ever come to this place. They’ve all got their own stories. But they all come back here, all the time. And whenever I get the opportunity, so do I.”  
“Does that fill that something?” Bucky asked.  
“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, “but it feels like home.”

Bucky looked around the place again, at all the people Steve had just told him about. None of them took any notice of him or Steve, just went about their lives. He wondered what that felt like; it had been so long since he’d been able to just live his life. Without having to keep close watch on everyone around him. Without looking over his shoulder. Even more, he wondered what it felt like to have a place to come back to. A place to belong. He couldn’t remember anymore.

Since the moment his parents died he’d lost what little sense of belonging they’d given him. He’d struggled for years on his own. Hungry. Cold. Tired. Alone. It had been painful, every second. It hurt just to think back on it. He’d learned long ago not to.

Bucky looked down at his plate, “So why’d you bring me here?”  
“I thought maybe you’d appreciate it.” Steve said. He reached out cautiously, resting his fingers on Bucky’s, “I thought maybe you could use a place like this. A place to come back to.”  
“Sure put a lot of thought into that.” Bucky whispered. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever put so much thought into him.  
“I’m sorry.” Steve pulled his hand back, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
Bucky looked up at him, “What?”  
Steve gestured vaguely toward Bucky, as though unsure how to convey what he was seeing, “You um ...you’re ...”  
Bucky reached up, his fingers brushing his face just lightly, and was surprised to find tears there. He wiped them away quickly and forced a smile, “Ah, that …it’s nothing. Don’t …don’t worry about it.”  
“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” Steve asked.  
“No. I’m okay, really.” Bucky insisted.  
“I do get it, you know.” Steve said softly. “I understand. You’ve been hurt before, I can see that. Even if …this afternoon hadn’t happened, I can still tell that. You’ve built up a lot of walls around yourself and you don’t let anyone in. I don’t expect you make any exceptions for me. I understand if you don’t want me around. If you’d rather me just leave you alone and mind my own business. But, if it’s alright with you, I hope you can at least let me try see a little of what’s behind those walls. Whatever you’re afraid of, I can promise you, it’s not going to happen with me.”  
“Lot of pretty words there, Captain.” Bucky whispered. He’d been given pretty words before. They didn’t turn out well.  
“I’ll prove ‘em, if you let me. If you give me a chance. It’s up to you, of course. Just say the word and I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll make sure the army doesn’t either.”  
“I gave someone that chance once. A long, long time ago. Someone I shouldn’t have. And all I got for it was a whole lotta tears. Since then, I’ve done nothing but go from one bastard slapping me around to the next.” Bucky said.  
“I understand.” Steve’s voice was soft, accepting. He wanted to reassure Bucky that he was nothing like the men who’d done that to him, but he didn’t want to push him either. If Bucky didn’t want to let him into his life, Steve would have to accept that.  
“But,” Bucky went on, “that was a long time ago. Maybe it’s about time I try something new. Follow someone who only causes trouble when it's the right thing to do. Someone trustworthy, for a change.”  
“Would that be me?”  
“We’ll see, Captain, we’ll see.”

Bucky hated to admit it, but he was touched by how sincere Steve seemed to be. He’d been with plenty of other men and women in his life, but none had been quite as earnest as him. None of them had ever made him want to trust them the way he did. At least none since the first. The one he refused to think about. He hadn’t even meant to mention it to Steve, a slip he would have to make sure not to repeat. That was one wound he was never reopening.

“So, have you made a decision about the Colonel’s offer?” Steve asked later that night as they walked back to Bucky’s hotel.  
“I have.” Bucky replied.  
“And?”  
Bucky shrugged, “Might be nice to belong somewhere, for a little while.”  
“Could be more than a little while.” Steve said.  
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Bucky laughed.  
“Right, of course. Sorry.”  
“I think you can be forgiven. After all, you did save my life.”  
“Well,” Steve smirked, “it’s not like I could’ve ignored such a pretty face.”  
Bucky looked down, trying to hide his smile, “You think I’m pretty?”  
“If that’s not too forward of me.”  
“Steve, I was going to sleep with you hours after we met.” Bucky reminded.  
“But that was then and this is now.” Steve said.  
“It was yesterday.”  
Steve nudged him playfully, “You know what I mean!”  
“Hey, no pushing!” Bucky laughed, nudging him back. Unsurprisingly, Steve didn’t seem to even feel it.  
“I _beg_ your pardon, sir.” Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky, “Is that better?”  
“A little bit, actually.” Bucky admitted. They stayed that way as they walked the rest of the way back to the hotel. “Do you want to come in?” He asked, opening the door to his room.  
Steve seemed to consider for a moment before shaking his head, “I shouldn’t. Have to leave first thing in the morning, so I have a few more things to sort out.”  
Bucky nodded, “I understand. I suppose I should get myself sorted out, too. Now that I have myself a new job.”  
Steve smiled, “So I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Good.” Steve lingered as though he wanted to say more, but thought better of it and began to walk away, “Well, um, good night, then.”  
“Steve,” Bucky called, standing in the doorway, “um …”  
“Yeah?” Steve questioned, turning back to him.  
He looked down, then forced himself to look him in the eye, “I, uh, I never …I never thanked you.”  
“For what?”  
“For what you did …today. It,” Bucky bit his lip before going on, “it would’ve gotten a lot worse if …you hadn’t shown up. So …thank you.”  
Steve rested his fingers on Bucky’s neck and leaned in to kiss the corner of his lip where he’d been hit earlier, “You’re welcome.”  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky whispered, stepping into the room and carefully shutting the door behind him.

He leaned against the door and sighed, a sad, hollow feeling coming over him. Wrapping his arms around himself, Bucky made his way to the bathroom to shower. He couldn’t believe how well the night had gone. How different Steve was from the man the newsreels made him out to be. He was every bit the good man they showed, that was certain, but nothing about him cried perfect soldier. He wanted to trust Steve, to put all his faith in him. To open up and let him know all of his secrets. He knew he couldn’t, but that didn’t lessen the desire to do so.

Finishing in the shower, Bucky wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back to the bedroom. He froze when he spotted a large man sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, a cigarette between his fingers and a cold grin on his face.

“You didn’t think I was really done with you, did you, darling?” He questioned.  
Bucky sucked in a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn’t shake, “You know, Rum, I almost kinda did.”  
Rum snorted, “Lose the towel.”  
Bucky didn’t move.  
“Lose. The towel.” Rum said again, more forcefully.

A shudder running through him, Bucky let the towel slide to the floor. His face flushed and he tried to look away, only to snap his gaze right back when Rum clicked his tongue. He kept his eyes on Rum’s face, his own burning; the vulnerability he felt was almost tangible. His heart was pounding. He tried in vain to steady his breathing, knowing already there was no point to it. He wanted to move, to say something. To do anything but stand there uselessly waiting for Rum to speak again. But he couldn’t. He never could.

Rum’s eyes traveled all over Bucky’s body, and he was certain his face would have turned redder if so much blood hadn’t already rushed down between his legs. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as Rum beckoned him over with his finger. When he reached him, Rum took him by his hip and pulled him down so that he was straddling his leg, then put the cigarette out on the arm of the chair.

“They’ll charge me for that.” Bucky whispered, tongue flicking out over his lips.  
“Hush.”

Rum grabbed the back of Bucky’s head and yanked him in for a bruising kiss. Bucky reached up to wrap his arms around Rum’s neck and pressed himself down against his leg. Rum’s free hand wrapped around Bucky’s cock and squeezed, making him whimper into the kiss. He tried to pull away from him but Rum wouldn’t loosen his grip on his head. Bucky slid his hands down Rum’s chest and tore open his shirt. Rum moved his hand from Bucky’s crotch to his back and stood up, Bucky wrapping his legs around Rum’s waist to stop from falling.

Sliding his other hand from Bucky’s head to his shoulder, Rum shoved him forcefully against the wall and finally broke the kiss. Bucky gasped for air and clung onto Rum’s shoulders.

“Did he buy it?” Rum questioned.  
Bucky glared at him, “ _Of course_ he bought it. The hell you think you’re talking to?”  
“Had to check. The Master wasn’t sure you were up for the task. What with you, saving his life back in the factory.”  
“You really think he’d have fallen? Master knows damn well Captain America won’t die so easy. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent me in.”  
“You know, Bucky, I would never question the Hydra, but I’m wondering if you’re really cut out for this job.”  
“What d’you mean?”  
“Just don’t think all your cute little smiles and letting ‘im put his arms around you were doing the job. Not when you’d usually just suck his dick and have him crawling back for more.”  
“You were watching us?”  
Rum smirked, “ _Of course_ I was watching you, you baby-doll.”  
“You son of a—”  
Rum slammed Bucky into the wall again, making him groan with something between pain and pleasure. “You were saying?”  
“Just do it.” Bucky demanded through gritted teeth.  
“Do what? Be specific, Bucky.” Rum said, his tongue at Bucky’s ear.  
“Finish …finish what you started …this afternoon …”  
“Ask me nicely.”  
Bucky shook his head, “No!”  
Rum shrugged, “Suit yourself.” He moved quickly, throwing Bucky down onto the bed and climbing on top of him.  
“No marks,” Bucky breathed, “he’ll see.”  
“Just take all the fun out of it.” Rum muttered. He pressed one hand over Bucky’s mouth and nose, the other reaching down for his stiff cock again. He didn’t even try to hide his satisfaction as Bucky squirmed beneath him, his fingers clawing at Rum’s much larger hand. He tightened his grip around him, knowing full well how much more he wanted from him. “You gonna ask me nicely, darling?”  
Bucky whimpered, lungs burning and body aching with need. He didn’t want to give in so easily; he hated letting Rum win. But he was at a disadvantage, with Rum’s strength holding him down, and he knew he couldn’t take it much longer. Bucky knew it was pointless trying to hold out; he rarely beat Rum in their game anyway. Vision beginning to blur, he let go of Rum’s hand and spread his arms out in a gesture of surrender.  
“That’s a good boy.” Rum taunted, lifting his hand away. A wave of satisfaction washed over him as Bucky coughed and panted. “I’m waiting.”  
“Please.” Bucky whined. “ _Please_ , Rum, fuck me.”  
Rum released Bucky’s length and slid one finger into him, “You want me to make you scream?”  
Bucky had no idea when he’d lubricated his hand, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Rum always seemed to be ready to take him. “Yes,” He whimpered, “yes, _please_ ...make me scream …”  
Rum grinned, “Don’t you worry, darling, I will.”

There wasn’t much left in Bucky’s life that gave it meaning. His years of heartache and servitude had long stripped that all away. He no longer even had it in him to hate himself for the things he did, for what he was being sent to do next. From the moment his contract began, so very many years ago when he became yet another of the Hydra’s many servants, his heart had begun to freeze over. He’d long since gone numb inside. But with Rum, at least, he could forget it all. He could lose himself in the agonizing pleasure. He could feel. For a little while.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to chapter six! Here be some sad talk, mind control and non-graphic rape.  
> (Comments make me happy and write faster!)

Bucky watched his target carefully through his scope, waiting for the order to shoot. If anyone wasn’t in position when he fired, the entire mission would be ruined. The town below him was quiet, most of its citizens having already abandoned it. Those that remained were kept under strict watch by Schmidt’s soldiers, held captive in their own homes. The sun already set, their curfew keeping them from setting foot outside. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what resource the town held that was important enough to keep it under such tight control, nor did he particularly care. The mission was to liberate it, and liberate it they would. As soon as he killed the guard atop the town hall.

It had been three weeks since Bucky joined Steve and the Howling Commandos. They had accepted him quickly enough, welcomed him onto the team. He had to admit, there was an efficiency to them that was unmatched. They may have been a mismatch of people who probably shouldn’t have worked together as well as they did, but they got every job done near flawlessly. Bucky increased their effectiveness, his marksmanship exactly what they hadn’t realized they’d been in need of.

He heard a whistle nearby, one that could easily have been mistaken for a bird had he not been waiting for it. He pulled the trigger and his target fell to the ground below. Without hesitating, he switched his sights to the guard standing on the building closest to town hall before he could notice the first man’s death and shot. He supposed someone else would feel bad about shooting down their own comrades, but couldn’t bring himself to care. It wasn’t as though he’d ever felt any loyalty to any of them. Were it not for his contract with the Hydra, he would never have anything to do with any of them anyway. 

Not wasting another moment, he repositioned himself to shoot down his next target, slowly but surely clearing the rooftops of soldiers. It was too dark for any of them to realize just yet what was happening, but they would soon if he didn’t succeed in his assignment. There wasn’t much time; any second and the team would be moving in to get the civilians to safety and take down the soldiers on the ground. Before that happened, he needed to make sure none of the soldiers had an aerial advantage.

The task wasn’t difficult, not for a man of Bucky’s skill and experience. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Steve there wasn’t a target he couldn’t hit. He managed to clear the rooftops in time for the rest of the team to make their move, leaving the rest up to them.

It didn’t take long with Steve leading the mission; when it came down to protecting people, there was no one better for the job. He had the civilians to safety and the soldiers defeated before most of them even knew what was happening. By dawn the town was secure.

“And there we have it,” Dugan said when they regrouped, “another job well done.”  
Jones laughed, “Yeah, thanks to our new friend. That’s some ace shooting, Buck.”  
Bucky shrugged, “I know.”  
“Modest, isn’t he?” Dugan snorted. “S’what I like about you, Barnes. You're a real pistol.”  
Steve draped his arm over Bucky’s shoulders, “All joking aside, we couldn’t have pulled this one off without you, Bucky. You did good.”  
“Thanks, Steve.” Bucky replied.  
“Alright, let’s go before these two start cuddling.” Falsworth teased.  
“Yeah I don’t need to watch that.” Morita agreed.  
“You’re hilarious.” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Bucky hated to admit it, but he was starting to genuinely like the Howling Commandos. They were a good group of people. Eccentric, maybe even insane, but good. Each and every one of them was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect their loved ones. It was no wonder they’d been the ones Steve had chosen to stand by his side as he fought back Schmidt’s forces.

It truly saddened him to think that they would never succeed.

“You know you’d think we’d get some decent food out here.” Jones said later that morning as they finally had the chance to eat breakfast. He gestured down to his bowl of what was supposed to be porridge, “Instead we get this slop all the time.”  
“I’ve eaten worse.” Morita shrugged. “Trust me, this stuff isn’t so bad.”  
“Dunno about that.” Dugan chuckled, “Sometimes I think they just scrape this stuff out from under a rock.”  
“Who cooks it, anyway?” Falsworth questioned. “How’s he still in charge of feeding us if he can’t even get this right?”  
“Give him a break, guys, at least it’s edible.” Steve said.  
“It’s better than the stuff I had when I was a kid.” Buck commented. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. Though they tried to be discreet, everyone’s eyes moved to him, hoping to hear more. He didn’t talk about himself much, after all, and especially not about his childhood. “Mama was never a very good cook.”  
“Maybe our guy’s your long-lost brother.” Dugan joked.  
Bucky tried and failed to force a smile, “I doubt that.”  
“You know, I used to have to eat raw liver every day so I wouldn’t die.” Steve remarked. “So Jim’s right, this stuff isn’t so bad.”  
Jones grimaced, “Raw liver?”  
Steve nodded, “Yeah. For my anemia. Not a pleasant thing.”  
“You may have just cost me my appetite, Rogers.” Falsworth said.  
Steve shrugged, “Hey, I’m the one who had to eat it.”  
Dugan shuddered, “ _That_ is disgusting.”  
“Yeah, suddenly this crap looks a lot better.” Jones said.

Bucky tuned out the conversation around him, mentally scolding himself for his slipup. He knew it was dangerous to reveal anything about himself. If he gave away too much information, they would begin to suspect he was more than what he claimed. His entire mission would be ruined. More importantly, if he started talking about himself, his real self, there was a chance he would grow attached to them. He couldn’t get attached to anyone. Not the Commandos. Not Steve. Especially not Steve. He was on a mission, nothing more. He had to remember that.

Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his back, “What?”  
Steve was looking at him with concern, “Are you okay? You kinda …spaced out for a little bit, there.”  
Bucky glanced around, realizing that they were now alone at the table, “Oh. Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I …I wasn’t paying attention …”  
“I noticed that.” Steve said. “Anything you wanna talk about?”  
He shook his head, “No.”  
“You know, Buck,” Steve said softly, hand rubbing his back lightly, “you don’t have to hide everything from me. You can talk to me.”

With a sigh, Bucky looked down at the bowl he didn’t remember emptying. In the last three weeks, Steve had only tried once to get Bucky to talk about his past. He’d been accepting of Bucky’s reluctance, instead opting to talk about his own past and their current situation. He had to admire the gesture; it was clear he wanted Bucky to trust him, to be comfortable enough to share himself with him. They spent hours together, just talking and messing around. It almost made him feel at ease.

He knew he should just tell Steve a made up tale, one of the many stories he’d used in the past to gain someone’s trust. He had plenty of them, thoroughly concocted to fool anyone. He’d spun the tales so often he knew them all perfectly, had a thousand and one minor details that would hold them all together without holes. Not that anyone ever looked for a hole; he was a well-practiced liar. No one ever questioned him. He could tell a person he’d walked on the moon and they’d never bat an eye.

It was different with Steve, though. The honesty in him, the sheer trust he had was overwhelming. The guilt Bucky felt lying to him was immeasurable. It was bad enough their entire relationship was a lie; he couldn’t stand the thought of actively telling them. And since he couldn’t tell the truth, either, he’d decided it was best not to tell him anything at all. He just had to hold out until his mission was over.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” He said, “it’s nothing. Really. I’m okay.”  
It was clear Steve wanted to try again, but he let it go, “Alright, then.” He cleared his throat and held up a notebook, “Well, we’ve got some spare time. I was thinking about getting a little drawing practice in. You wanna take a walk with me?”  
“What’re we waiting for?”

Steve helped Bucky up and wrapped his arm around his waist, guiding him toward the woods nearby. He knew Steve was fond of the wilderness, loved the sound and the sight of it. He could always find something new to draw in the woods. Bucky had come to enjoy watching Steve draw. The way he concentrated so completely on his subject, the delicate movements of his strong hands. He could watch it for hours.

 

They found a quiet spot not far from their camp where Steve could concentrate. Bucky watched him as he began to work, capturing a group of trees on the paper in front of him. Steve talked absentmindedly while he worked, telling Bucky about the art school he’d gone to before the war began. He liked listening to Steve talk. He had such appreciation for the little things in life. Things that Bucky had once taken so for granted.

“How do you do that, Steve?” He found himself asking.  
“Do what?” Steve questioned, pausing to look up at him.  
“Care so much. About everything.”  
Steve was quiet for a moment, as if considering Bucky’s question. He shook his head and shrugged, “I don’t …I don’t know. I guess I just don’t know any other way to be. I don’t know how _not_ to care.”  
Bucky looked away from him, “Papa used to say a man only has so much love to give away before he runs out and can’t love at all anymore. Said not to let that happen.”  
“My mother told me that love is the one thing you can never run out of. The one thing you get more of when you give it away.” Steve said. “Because even if one person takes it without giving, there’s always going to be someone to give you more.”  
“Really …”  
“I know I didn’t know him, but I doubt your father said that to scare you or anything.”  
He shook his head, “I dunno. I never got to ask him what he meant by that.”  
“I’m sure he just wanted to protect you.” Steve assured him.

Bucky sank into himself, unsure what he was doing. He wasn’t supposed to be talking about this with Steve, yet he just couldn’t stop himself. It was like that night at the restaurant; something about Steve had made him so comfortable he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It just felt right, sharing his burdens with Steve. 

He really didn’t know what his father had meant all those years ago. He had been a distant man, who rarely ever seemed pleased with Bucky at all. Until the day he died, Bucky had no idea whether he was ever proud of anything he’d done. He didn’t know for sure if his father had even loved him. His mother hadn’t been better. He supposed they always just had more important things to worry about.

Without a word he stood up and marched over to Steve. Before Steve could question him, Bucky yanked him up by his shirt and crashed their lips together. He shoved him to the ground, well aware that Steve was letting him do so, and climbed on top of him. He pulled away just long enough to take a breath, then went right back to kissing him. Steve laced his fingers in Bucky’s hair, ran his hands down his neck to his shoulders, then slid his coat off of him.

Steve was still wearing his field uniform, so Bucky didn’t bother trying to remove all of it and instead opened his pants, freeing his half-hard cock. He lowered himself, not giving Steve any time to react before taking him into his mouth. Bucky couldn’t help the slight smirk when he heard Steve gasp loudly. Pride washed over him as Steve moaned. He was back in his element; no thoughts, no feelings, no memories. Raw passion. That was he needed. Not to think, not to share his long and painful memories with Steve or anyone else. Just this.

“Bucky …” Steve moaned. He whined when Bucky pulled away from him, “What, what’re you—”  
Bucky slid two fingers into Steve’s mouth, grinning when he sucked on him, “Shh. Just relax. I’ll make you feel good.”

Withdrawing his fingers he undid his own belt and tugged down his pants, then pushed them into himself. He groaned, biting down on his lower lip; the hurt sent chills up his spine in the best way. He knew it was dangerous, what he was doing. Knew it would damage his body. He didn’t care. Not when he healed faster than anyone else but Steve himself. He just needed to forget. For now. The pain would do that for him.

“Whoa, _whoa_!” Steve grabbed his hips, locking him in place. “What the hell do you think you’re _doing_?”  
“It’s called sex.”  
Steve shook his head, “No. Not like this. Are you crazy?”  
“Relax.”  
“Bucky, I’m not doing this. Do you have any idea how bad that would hurt you?”  
“It’ll be _fine_ , Steve.” Bucky insisted.  
“No, it won’t.” Steve’s voice was firm, all trace of lust gone. “It’s dangerous. I don’t know what that …bastard you were with before did, but I’m not having any part of this.”  
“Steve,”  
“No, Bucky.” He moved them, putting Bucky down on the ground and sitting upright, “I am not doing it. Not like this.”  
Bucky stared at him, mouth hanging open, “So, so you’re just gonna walk away?”  
“I’m not gonna walk away, Bucky, but I am not having sex with you like this. I am not going to do anything that would get you hurt.” Steve reached out, placing his hand on Bucky’s face, “It is a bad idea, Bucky. Please, just trust me. Trust me to take care of you.”  
Shaking, Bucky glared at him, “Oh, right. Of course. Because _I_ can’t be trusted to take care of _myself_.”  
“ _What_? No, I didn’t say that!”  
Bucky pulled up his pants and got to his feet, “And who’re _you_ to lecture about bad ideas, anyway? You volunteer for a procedure that could _kill_ you, then you go running after an armed assassin without so much as a _weapon_. You rush into enemy territory _alone_ and you risk your life to save someone _you don’t even know_ when anyone else would’ve left them behind by now. I think _you’re_ the one who can’t make good decisions, here, Steve.”  
“O-okay, I make bad decisions, too. A lot of them.” Steve admitted. “But that doesn’t make _this_ a good one! Bucky, _please_ , just _listen_ to me!”  
“Yes, listen to you! Listen to you and just trust every word you say! Just be quiet and listen! Because I can’t be _trusted_ to do anything else!”  
“ _What_ are you _talking_ about?”  
Bucky threw his hands in the air, “Forget it! I’m leaving!”  
“Bucky, wait!” Steve leapt to his feet as Bucky stormed off and rushed after him.  
“Just forget it!”  
Steve grabbed his arm and turned him around, “ _Bucky_. What’s going on here?”  
Bucky yanked his arm back, “I said _forget it_ , Thomas!”  
“Thomas?” Steve paused, staring at him. “Who’s Thomas?”  
“What? No. No, no, Steve. I said Steve!” Bucky shouted.  
“No,” Steve shook his head patiently, “no, Bucky, you said Thomas.”

Bucky’s head spun and his heart sank. Horror filled him. Had he really said _that_ name? Bucky didn’t want to believe it, but it had to be true. Steve never lied. And there was no way for him to know that name anyway. He must have said it.

Face burning and eyes tearing, Bucky shook his head, “I, I have to go.”  
“Bucky, please,”  
He turned and ran before Steve could get another word out, “Just leave me alone!”

He didn’t know where he was going, heading off deeper into the woods. He knew Steve could catch him easily if he tried, but it didn’t sound as though he was following. It didn’t matter anyway. He wasn’t going to stop for him. Wasn’t going to sit down and talk or let Steve charm his way back under Bucky’s defenses. He couldn’t let Steve compromise him.

Bucky ran until his lungs were burning and his legs were too weak to carry him any further. He fell to his hands and knees, sobbing and unable to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. His mission was to get close to Steve, to learn everything about him, not the other way around. Not to let Steve hear a piece of his only secret that really mattered. The only one he’d give anything to keep hidden.

“You idiot.” He panted. “You stupid, stupid fuck. What is _wrong_ with you?”

He pushed himself up and sat with his back against a tree, pulling his legs up against his chest. He let his head fall onto his knees and sucked in several deep breaths, trying to stop his crying. He needed to get a hold of himself. He was supposed to be getting close enough to Steve to learn his weaknesses. Running away from him wasn’t going to accomplish that. He had to calm down enough to speak with him, to smooth this bump. He had to convince Steve to continue their relationship even after his outburst. If he couldn’t, his mission would be a failure. And the price of failure wasn’t one he wanted to pay.

He didn’t know how long he sat there for. It was getting dark, and cold, and he’d left his coat behind when he ran away from Steve. He was exhausted and hungry. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He knew, though, if he didn’t move now it would be too dark to even hope to get back.

Limbs shaking, Bucky stood up slowly and began walking back to the camp. He wasn’t sure yet what he would say to Steve, but he had to think of something soon. Though Steve probably wouldn’t want to speak to him yet, he knew he would want an explanation for his behavior. It was going to take a lot of persuasion to stay with him. He had to prepare himself, to pull out all the stops in order to charm his way back to where they’d been before his slip up.

“Bucky!”  
He jumped at the sound of his name, surprised when he found Steve sitting on a fallen tree just a few feet away, “Steve?”  
Steve got up quickly, holding out Bucky’s coat and draping it over his shoulders, “Are you okay? You must be freezing! Are you hurt?”  
“Yeah,” Bucky shook his head, “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”  
Letting out a sigh of relief, Steve hugged him, “Thank goodness.”  
“Uh,” Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. Steve’s reaction was the last thing he had been expecting. He decided it was best to just apologize and get it over with, “Steve, I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t have to apologize, Buck.” Steve said, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Whatever happened back there, it’s over with. I’m just glad you’re safe.”  
“You’re not …mad at me?”  
Steve shook his head, “I just told you, it’s over with. You were upset, you said things. There’s no need to dwell on it anymore.”  
“Oh. Okay.”  
“Come on, Bucky,” Steve said softly, one of his arms still around Bucky, “let’s get back.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. He had never known anyone so forgiving in all his life. Anyone else would have been furious with him. Would have demanded an explanation and a display of apology. Rum would have beat him. All that, he could handle. Steve just letting it go, moving on like it was nothing? He didn’t know what to do with that.

“Steve, were you …were you sitting there waiting for me that whole time?” He asked.  
“Ah, well,” Steve cleared his throat, “I didn’t want to leave you out here, but I wasn’t sure …I thought maybe you needed some time alone. Figured it was best to wait nearby but still, you know, keep my distance.”  
“Oh …” Bucky tried to think of something better to say, but nothing came to mind.  
“And don’t worry,” Steve went on, “we’ll just keep this between us. No one has to know.”  
Bucky smiled to himself, “Thanks, Steve.”  
“Don’t mention it.”

 

1987

_“Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”_

_He doesn’t know where the words are coming from. He hears them from somewhere deep in the darkness. They’re a guide, taking him he doesn’t know where. He doesn’t even know where he is. Underwater, it feels like. The words are pulling him upward. When he breaks the surface, it’s like waking up from a long, long sleep._

_His eyes take a moment to adjust to the world around him. He’s in the back of a car parked in a garage. He knows this place, but he doesn’t know how he got here. Or why. He blinks, his gaze falling on a familiar face._

_“Brock?”_  
_“Hey there, beautiful.” Brock says._  
_“What …what’s going on? What am I doing here?”_  
_“You don’t remember?” Brock asks._  
_“I don’t …” He shakes his head, “I don’t know. The last thing I …the last thing I remember is …a motel, I think. I …a phone call. I have an assignment. Right?”_  
_“You already had it, baby.” Brock replies._  
_“I did?”_  
_Brock smiles, “You did. And you did it perfectly, as always.”_  
_He knows he ought to feel panicked, but there’s only a mild sense of confusion, “I don’t remember it.”_  
_“Of course you don’t.” Brock says. “You been so high the last few days I’m surprised you know your own damn name.”_  
_He blinks, “It’s James, right?”_  
_Brock laughs, “Yeah, baby, it’s James.”_  
_“What did I do?”_  
_“Well you’ll have to ask the boss that. You know I’m not cleared for that kind of information. I just bring you home when you’re done. And give you your reward.”  
James smirks and licks his lips, “Now _ that _, I remember.”_

_He laughs when Brock scoops him into his arms and slides out of the car. Brock carries him out of the garage and into one of the smaller houses like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon. He wastes no time and takes him into a tiny bedroom, then sits on the bed with James in his lap. Their lips connect immediately and James wraps his arms around Brock’s neck._

_There’s not much in the world that matters to him. He lives in a constant haze of sex and drugs and work. But Brock, Brock matters. He’s the only one who ever satisfies him. The only one who can so completely give him the intoxicating pain he so craves. With Brock, everything fades away and there’s nothing left but the two of them. It’s not love, but it’s_ something _. And that’s more than he can ask for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fully clarity: Despite the fairly pleasant tone, the 1987 segment is _not_ meant to be taken as romantic or sexy. James is unable to give consent due to the mind control, but is unaware of this and is therefore consenting under false pretenses.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one this time, my apologies. Next one will be longer! :)  
> (comments make the world go round)

1943

Steve stared up at the ceiling of the tent, unable to fall asleep. Bucky was beside him, curled up on his side with his back facing him and based on his breathing not sleeping either. The afternoon had been hard for both of them, after Bucky’s outburst. They’d had to explain their much-longer-than-expected absence and hide the fact that anything had happened. Steve wanted to talk to Peggy about it and get her opinion, but he’d promised Bucky that he wouldn’t say anything to anyone. He wasn’t about to break his word and damage the trust Bucky still had in him.

Try as he might, he couldn’t make sense of what had happened in the woods. He knew Bucky had been upset after discussing his parents and likely embarrassed when Steve wouldn’t have sex with him but he couldn’t understand Bucky’s behavior. What had happened to him that had him reacting that way? That had him accusing Steve of telling him he couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself? And who was Thomas?

The person he’d let in before, Steve suspected. To whom he’d given a chance to get behind his walls. The one he mentioned the night Steve had taken him to his favorite restaurant. _And all I got for it was a whole lotta tears_ Bucky had said. Whoever Thomas was, he’d broken Bucky’s heart. Steve hated him already.

“What were their names?” Steve asked suddenly, needing to get his mind off this Thomas person.  
“Who?” Bucky whispered after a long moment.  
“Your parents.” Steve clarified.  
“Winifred and George.”  
“How did …” Steve trailed off, unsure if he ought to ask or not.  
“How did they die?”  
Steve shook his head even though Bucky couldn’t see him, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry. Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”  
Bucky shifted slightly, “They tried to have more children for years after I was born. To have extra hands helping out. But, when they finally did ...something must’ve gone wrong. Mama wasn’t strong enough. She …she spent hours trying to push my little sister out …eventually, they both just …” He cleared his throat and went on, “Papa couldn’t take it. He hanged himself that same night.”  
Steve looked at him, eyes going wide, “Bucky …”  
“The people in town didn’t, um …they didn’t take too kindly to the whole thing. I guess they thought I was bad luck or something, after all that.”  
“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” Steve didn’t know what else to say.  
Bucky turned over and yawned, draped his arm across Steve, resting his head on his chest, “It was a long time ago.”  
“I shouldn’t have asked.” Steve said softly.  
“It’s okay. You deserve to know _something_ after the way I acted today.”  
“Bucky,”  
“Go ahead. Ask me something.”  
“I, I don’t know what to—”  
“Just ask whatever comes to mind.”  
Steve hesitated. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask Bucky, but he wasn’t sure whether or not he should. After what happened, the last thing he wanted was to upset him further. “Did you have any pets other than the cat you had when you were a kid?”  
“I had another cat.” Bucky replied. “Her name was Sunny. Had her for about four years, maybe? But she um …I went away, for a while and my neighbors were watching her but she ran off.”  
“You went away?” Steve wondered if he was talking about the disappearance of the Oceanus.  
“Yeah. I went to England for a few months. I’d found an old photo of my Granny’s and thought there was still a cousin of mine there, but I was wrong. Apparently I don’t have any relatives left after all.” Bucky explained. “I didn’t get back when I said I’d be, so I guess I can’t blame my neighbors for letting Sunny wander away.”  
Steve decided to push his luck, “What happened? I mean, why weren’t you back when you thought you’d be?”  
Bucky snickered, “Steve, don’t play around. I know you know.”  
“Know what?” Steve grimaced as he spoke, knowing he wasn’t fooling Bucky.   
“That I was on the Oceanus.” Bucky said. “That I’m a ‘One-Oh-Seven’ as people called us.”  
“I didn’t …”  
Bucky lifted his head just enough to look Steve in the eye, “You’re a terrible liar. You really think I don’t know you saw my file?”  
Steve sighed, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about that.”  
Laying his head back down, Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “I’m used it.”  
“I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Steve said. “I know you’re a very …private person.”  
“Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Bucky insisted. “There’s nothing in that file I have to hide. That’s not the important stuff.”  
“So …what _did_ happen?”  
“On the Oceanus?”  
“Yeah. If you …don’t mind.”  
“It …it’s kind of a blur. Two days after we left, it was the middle of the night, and suddenly …we weren’t where we were supposed to be. I woke up with some guys dragging me out of my bunk. After that, I …I just remember being asked a lot of questions. They took us back to our rooms and kept everyone under watch. People were killed, dumped overboard. I don’t remember most of it, but eventually there were just the hundred seven of us left and we were arriving in New York.”  
“That must’ve been hell.” Steve commented, rubbing Bucky’s back.  
“It was worse when we got back. No one believing us. Feds watching us all. For a while I wondered if I was really home or not. Thought, maybe, I was still there on that ship. Just imagining that I got out alive. Then the other survivors started going missing. Dying off. Like a never ending nightmare. I kept waiting for my turn. When I was in that factory, when they took me to isolation …I thought for sure that was it. My time was up. And then …”  
“And then?”  
Bucky exhaled softly, “And then you came.”  
“Glad I could be of service.”  
“Yeah, you’re a little bit helpful.”  
Steve laughed, “Just a little?”  
“Tiny bit.”  
“Very funny.” Steve said.  
Looking up again, Bucky smirked at him, “Did I hurt your feelings, Captain?”  
“Tiny bit.”  
Bucky kissed him and put his head back down, “Good. Now pipe down so I can get some sleep.”  
“Oh, yes _sir_.” Steve chuckled.

He smiled as Bucky readjusted himself against him. By the way his muscles relaxed, it seemed as though most of the tension was melting out of him. Steve was relieved to know that the day’s earlier events would not cause any strain on their relationship. Perhaps it would even encourage Bucky to trust him more; he’d seemed so genuinely surprised when Steve didn’t yell at him today that it almost hurt. Steve didn’t want to imagine what sort of reaction the men Bucky had been with before him would have had. 

More importantly, Steve was glad that Bucky had seen fit to share his experience on the Oceanus with him. He suspected that he was lying about just how much he didn’t remember, but Steve was more than willing to let that slide for the moment. He didn’t expect him to share all the details of his ordeal just yet. That he was willing to disclose any of it was more than enough.

Content with his small victory, Steve closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter eight! Steve is lovestruck and Bucky's feeling a bit more emotional distress than he ought to be.  
> Enjoy! :)

The next morning as they packed their camp and prepared to move on, Steve couldn’t help but notice that Bucky was far more lighthearted than usual. Not that he was normally particularly reserved, but never had he been quite so talkative. Steve wondered whether he was trying to compensate for the previous day’s incident, or if it was simply him opening up more after their conversation in the night. 

“He seems rather at ease today.” Peggy commented, standing off to the side with Steve and watching Bucky share a story with the rest of team about one his earlier assignments.  
Steve nodded, “He does.”  
Peggy smirked at him, “And you two were gone all day yesterday …”  
“It’s not like that, Peggy. We didn’t do anything.”  
“Of course not, you just happened to return with Barnes filthy and disheveled.”  
“Still not what you think.” Steve said, shaking his head. “We um …we got into kind of an argument.”  
Peggy looked at him more seriously now, “What happened?”  
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have …damn.” Steve groaned, rubbing his face. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything, so forget I did, okay?”  
“I’d be happy to, once you tell me what happened.” Peggy said.  
“I’m not telling, Peggy.” Steve replied, eyes going back to Bucky. He was laughing along with the rest of the team at something Dernier said. “Let’s just say Bucky’s even more …complicated than I thought.”  
“I’m not entirely surprised to hear that.”  
“What’s that mean?”  
“There’s a lot more to that man than meets the eye.” Peggy replied. “He’s hiding. Secrets. A lot of them.”  
“I know.”  
“You like him.”  
“I know.”  
Peggy shook her head, “That isn’t what I meant. You’re falling for him, Steve. Falling in love with that man.”  
Steve looked down to hide his smile, “I know.”  
“Be careful, Steve.” Peggy said. “Whatever he’s been through, it’s hardened his heart. More than maybe even you can help.”  
“You could be right.” Steve admitted. “But I need to try. I need to know him, Peggy. I want to be a part of his life, no matter what that takes.”  
“You could get hurt, you know. Badly.” Peggy warned.  
Steve breathed a laugh, shaking his head, “And since when has that ever stopped me from doing anything?”  
Peggy smiled, “Never, I suppose. Your own safety always does seem to come second.”  
“If I can help someone I will. Whether that hurts me or not. I’ve never really had good sense that way.”  
“No, you certainly don’t. But that's one of the best things about you. I suppose if anyone can help him, it would be you.” Peggy began to walk away, then stopped for a moment to look back at him, “Just don’t be surprised if his past is too dark for even you to see your way through.”

Steve didn’t reply as he watched Peggy walk away from him. He knew she wouldn’t tell him what she meant, but he had a feeling it had to do with the blacked out parts of Bucky’s file. There was no doubt Peggy had been able to obtain an untainted copy. She had probably done so the moment Bucky had officially joined the team. Whatever Bucky had done—or had been done to him—it clearly made even Peggy uncomfortable. Not an easy feat. Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to know about it all, but whatever Bucky was forced to carry he would be willing to carry too.

He made his way over to the rest of the team and dropped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, “Nice to see you all having so much fun without me.”  
“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so busy with Agent Carter.” Dugan teased. “You tryin’ to make Bucky jealous?”  
Morita chuckled, “I think he is.”  
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s working, too; I can’t pull off lipstick that red.”  
Steve kissed his temple, “Don’t worry, Bucky, I love you no matter what shade of lipstick you wear.”  
“That’s …nice to know, Steve.” Bucky said, tensing under Steve’s arm.  
Realizing his mistake, Steve cleared his throat and moved on, “Besides, why would I ever need to make anyone jealous? I’m Captain America.”  
Morita rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah, you’re the greatest.”  
“That’s why they had you dancing on stage for months.” Dugan said.  
“Hey, I thought we all agreed no one would bring that up anymore!” Steve exclaimed.  
Falsworth laughed, “Actually we agreed not to mention the song. You never said anything about the dance.”  
Steve shook his head with a light laugh, “Well that’s officially off limits now too.”  
“Aw, but you’re such a _great_ dancer, Steve!” Jones laughed.  
“C’mon guys,” Steve said, “it looks like it’s time to move on. Let’s hurry before we get left behind.”

Taking his arm off Bucky he walked away quickly, hearing them continue their teasing as he did so. He hadn’t thought about how using the word love might affect Bucky before he said it. He supposed he should have known Bucky wouldn’t take it lightly. Peggy hadn’t been exaggerating about Steve’s feelings. Even having only been together a few weeks, he knew Bucky had a firm hold of his heart. As much as he’d wanted to say it before, though, he’d known it was best to hold it back until he was sure Bucky was ready to hear it. He certainly hadn’t meant to say it in so casual a sentence.

It was almost a relief that Bucky had mostly ignored it instead of running off on him again. It was clear Bucky wasn’t used to genuine affection, and that he didn’t know how to respond to it. The way he’d spoken about his parents’ deaths had sounded more accepting than anything else. As though it was just a bad thing that happened, rather than a tragedy leaving him orphaned. Steve didn’t know whether that meant Bucky had buried it so deeply he no longer felt the pain, or that his parents had been so distant he hadn’t felt much attachment to them in the first place. A mixture of both, he suspected.

He wasn’t surprised when Bucky avoided him for the rest of the day. It wasn’t obvious to anyone who wasn’t paying attention; he made enough small talk to pass off as just being tired and there was enough work to be done that they had little time to talk anyway. But to Steve it was plain as day. Bucky didn’t reach out for him, didn’t kiss him or make suggestive remarks. He was more focused on work than he normally was. He had no jokes or sarcastic comments to offer throughout the day.

Steve tried not to be bothered too much by it. He knew Bucky wasn’t doing anything to hurt him. Knew that he just needed space. It was only fair to give him that after slipping up the way he did. Still, when night came and went, and one day turned into two, Steve felt himself worrying more and more. How much _had_ he upset him? Had he pushed too far with his simple yet careless comment? Was Bucky going to withdraw from him completely now? Or was it all just in his imagination and Bucky wasn’t really any different than usual?

“Bucky, hang on a minute.” He said softly on the third day when they finally had a moment alone. They had only a few minutes before their next assignment to destroy another one of the Hydra’s factories, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer, “Listen, about the other day—”  
Bucky shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, Steve. I’m just the sort of fool who overreacts to everything. I’m sorry for brushing you off like that. It was immature. I know you were just kidding around.”  
“No, I wasn’t.” Steve replied.  
Bucky paused, “What?”  
“I wasn’t kidding, Bucky.”  
“But …Steve, you said you—”  
Steve cut him off, taking hold of his hand, “I _know_ what I said, Buck. And I _meant_ what I said. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”  
“I …” Bucky didn’t seem to fully comprehend what he was being told, “Steve, you …are you …are you trying to say you love me?”  
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.” Steve knew that both his timing and delivery were horrible, but it was far too late to back out. “I know this isn’t exactly the most …charming way to go about saying it but …well I’m not exactly the most charming guy around.”  
“Steve, you …you _love_ me?” Bucky questioned, his eyes wide and his face reddening.  
“I do, Bucky. I love you.”  
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. When he opened them again, he yanked his hands away, “You don’t even know me, Steve.”  
“Bucky,”  
“No.” Bucky shook his head and backed away. He pointed at Steve as though accusing him of something, “Don’t. Don’t you dare. You are _not_ doing this.”  
“I …I’m not doing anything. Bucky, I’m not expecting …I didn’t say that to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to say it back or anything.”  
“I can’t have this conversation, Steve. This …I have work to do.” Bucky turned and walked away from him.  
Steve groaned, dropping his face into his hand, “Nice work, Rogers. Next time just keep your mouth shut.”

At the moment, Steve was sure no one on the planet had less tact than him. He should’ve known better than to confess yet. But the idea of letting Bucky think he had just been joking put knots in his stomach. Steve only knew how to be honest, even when it wasn’t in his own best interest. 

Cursing himself, Steve hurried to finish preparing and rushed out to meet with the rest of the team. He was mildly disappointed when Bucky wasn’t with them, but quickly reminded himself that Bucky’s role was different than theirs. Bucky was sent to scout ahead and find a place to keep watch over everything. To keep them safe from overhead.

“What's eating you, Steve?” Jones asked.  
He shook his head, “Nothing. I’m …I’m okay.”  
“You know you don’t have to keep it in.” Jones said. “Whatever’s going on, you know we’re all here for you, right?”  
Steve gave him a small smile, “Yeah. I know. Let’s just focus on the mission right now, okay?”  
Jones was tempted to push but let it go, “You got it, Cap.”

They set out then, prepared to storm the latest factory. As expected, the soldiers inside were taken by complete surprise. They stormed their way through the facility, taking down any soldiers standing in their way. Taking prisoners wasn’t an option; every attempt to do so resulted in the soldier committing suicide anyway. It wasn’t easy, of course, but they were able to break through their resistance quickly enough.

Even as the fight drew to a close, Steve couldn’t fully concentrate on his task. His mind kept wandering back to his conversation with Bucky. He thought about it even as he walked out of the factory and into the open area surrounding it. He hadn’t meant to upset him. Again. He couldn’t seem to stop doing so. Bucky’s past was so complicated that Steve never knew what would set him off and what wouldn’t.

He tensed when he heard the shot, raising his shield to defend himself. He turned quickly when something collapsed behind him, just in time to see one last Hydra soldier fall down dead. By his position, and the gun he’d apparently had ready, it was clear that had the man been shot even one instant later, Steve might be dead.

“Steve!” Morita called, running up to him with rest of the team just behind. “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, no harm done.” Steve said, glancing around to find Bucky.  
Morita sighed, “ _That_ was close.”  
Steve nodded, “I know.”  
“Good thing Barnes’s such a good shot.” Morita went on. “I barely even saw that guy! Another second and he’d have blown your head off!”  
“Another inch to the left,” Dugan added, “and _Bucky’d_ have blown your head off!”  
“Like Jim said, good thing Bucky’s a good shot.” Steve said.  
Falsworth nodded toward something over Steve’s shoulder, “Speak of the devil.”  
Steve barely had time to turn around before Bucky’s fist was in his face, “You _idiot_!”  
With a grunt, Steve stumbled slightly, taken aback by the force and suddenness of the hit, “What?”  
“What are you _doing_?” Bucky demanded. Steve had never seen him look so furious, not even that day in the woods. “Are you _trying_ to get yourself _killed_?”  
“Bucky,”  
“Don’t you ‘Bucky’ _me_! How could you’ve let _that moron_ sneak up on you? What kind of fool daydreams in the _middle of a war_?”  
Steve rubbed his jaw, “I wasn’t daydreaming.”  
“Then what _were_ you doing? Lulling him into a false sense of security?”  
Morita placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “Bucky, relax. Steve trusted that you were watching, that’s all. Nothing to snap your cap over.”  
Bucky swatted his hand away, “He _trusted_ that _I_ was watching? That’s _all_? Do you even _hear_ yourself, Jim?”  
“Back off, pal.” Morita snapped. “Don’t yell at _me_ just because _your_ boyfriend almost got killed.”  
Bucky shook his head, “You don’t understand anything. _None_ of you understands a _damn thing_.”  
“What’re you going on about, Barnes?” Jones questioned.  
“What am _I_ going on about?” Bucky repeated, taking a step toward Jones. For an instant, it looked as though he might actually strike him, “What do you _think_ I’m going on about? Do any of you even know _how_ to think?”  
“Don’t push me, Barnes.” Jones warned. He wasn’t a violent man, but that didn’t mean he would allow himself to be pushed around.  
“Push you? Push _you_? You don’t know what it _means_ to be pushed! None of you incompetent _morons_ does!”  
“Have you gone mad?” Dernier questioned, moving so that he could pull him away if he actually did try to hit Jones.  
“Never mind.” Bucky laughed bitterly, then turned and began to walk away. “Forget it! _Just_ forget it!”  
Dugan looked at Steve, “What the hell is _his_ problem?”  
Steve shook his head, “I don’t know. I really don’t.” For a moment, he just watched as Bucky got further and further from them. Then he sucked in a deep breath and followed after him, “But I’m gonna find out. Bucky!”  
“Not now, Steve.”  
When Steve reached Bucky, he grabbed him and turned him around, holding him by both of his arms, “No, _now_.”  
Bucky froze under the intensity of his stare, his anger dying away immediately, “Steve …”  
“No. Enough of this. You can’t just throw a tantrum every time something upsets you and then walk away. If you don’t want to talk about something, that’s fine, but don’t you dare go screaming at me and our _friends_ because of it!”  
“ _Friends_? If it’d been left to them you’d be _dead_!”  
Steve rolled his eyes, “Well it wasn’t, and I’m _not_. Don’t blame them for relaxing because _you_ do _your job_. We all _trust_ you, Bucky. Why else would anyone let their guard down?”  
“You don’t understand.” Bucky said.  
“Then make me understand. _Talk_ to me, Bucky.”  
“I …I can’t …”  
“Do better.”  
“What?”  
“Do better.” Steve repeated. He could feel Bucky trembling but didn’t let up yet. This time, he was going to get an answer, “I’m not taking ‘I can’t’ anymore. _Why_ can’t you?”  
“It’s complicated.”  
“Uncomplicate it.”  
“I …I …” Bucky swallowed, glancing at the rest of the team, who were pretending not to be watching them. “Not here.”  
Turning his head just slightly, Steve could see them all look away as though they had been focusing on making sure there were no enemies left in the area. He didn’t _want_ to push Bucky this way, but he couldn’t let this one slide. It was one thing when Bucky acted out when they were alone, but another when he took it out on their friends. He looked back at Bucky, but said nothing.  
“Please, Steve,” Bucky whimpered, wide-eyed, “not here.”  
“You’re going to give me answers, Bucky. I’m not going to just pretend this didn’t happen. I’m not going pretend you didn’t treat Gabe and Jim like that. Or say what you said to _all_ of them.”  
“I know.” Bucky whispered. “I know. Just … _please_.”  
Steve searched his face, finding nothing but desperation. He loosened his grip and sighed, “Fine. I’ll wait until we have some privacy. But you’d better have something to say then.”  
Bucky nodded quickly, “I will.”  
“Let’s finish up here.”


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be forewarned, we have violent consensual sex and tragic tales ahead.  
> Hate it? Love it? Let me know! :)

Bucky paced the room, anxiety burning his every nerve. They had been welcomed into an inn at a town not far from the factory, a break from sleeping in tents out in the cold. After the debriefing the rest of the team had gone drinking, while Bucky had chosen to stay behind. It was getting late now, and he knew Steve would be there any minute. He had to come up with a story quickly. Something to excuse the way he’d acted that morning. In truth, even he didn’t know why he’d acted that way. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. It made sense in the woods, when he’d been reminded of his own past. But at the factory, there was no explanation. Why _had_ he been so upset when Steve was nearly killed? What difference should it make to him? He was only with him in order to find a way to do just that anyway.

He froze when he heard a knock at his door, blood draining from his face. His heart was pounding and he could feel himself shaking as he stared at it. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring himself to actually go over and open it. He hadn’t thought of a story yet. He wasn’t ready to face Steve. The second knock pulled Bucky out of his head. He moved slowly and reached out for the door, fingers pausing as they reached the handle. The third knock was more forceful.

Bracing himself, Bucky pulled the door open, “Steve, I—”  
A hand slapped over his mouth and forced him back into the room, “Hush.”  
Bucky yanked the hand off of his face and moved around the other man to quickly shut the door. He kept his voice low as he spoke, “Rum, what are you _doing_ here?”  
Rum smirked at him, “I can’t come and visit you, darling?”  
“You’re gonna put my whole mission in jeopardy!” Bucky scolded.  
Putting his hands on either side of him, Rum pinned Bucky against the door, “You’ve already put your mission in jeopardy.”  
“What’re you talking about?”  
“Today. At the factory.”  
“What about it?”  
“Why’d you take that shot, Buck? Kill off one of our own?”  
Bucky huffed, “Like _you_ care about killing our own. And I wouldn’t exactly be a convincing spy if didn’t.”  
“Maybe not.” Rum said. “But you killed him instead of letting him kill _Captain America_.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. You _really_ think that would’ve killed him?”  
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”  
Bucky started to push passed him, “Cut it out, Rum. I don’t have time for this. Steve’s gonna be here any minute, you need to—”  
Rum grabbed him and slammed him back up against the door. He leaned in close to his face, “ _Steve’s_ gonna be here, huh? So you can tell him how sorry you are for how you acted today?”  
“So I can do damage control, yes. I messed up today, I admit that. I don’t need _you_ coming around and making it worse.”  
“You idiot. You think you’re fooling me? You think you’re fooling _Master_?”  
“I’m not trying to fool anyone but Steve!” Bucky hissed.  
Rum snickered, “You really are pathetic, Bucky.” Without giving Bucky a chance to reply, he crushed their lips together.  
Bucky bit down on Rum’s lip hard enough to draw blood, making him pull away, “Get _off_ me.”  
Rum licked the blood from his lip and spit it in Bucky’s face, “You got some nerve. You fucked up today, Bucky. You knowingly _saved_ Captain America’s life. The whole world could be under the Hydra’s control by now, but you had to interfere.”  
“I’m telling you he _wouldn’t_ have died.” Bucky insisted.  
“Would you say that to Master?”  
Bucky could feel the blood drain from his face and his heart sink. If the Hydra was angry with him for his actions, no amount of excuses would protect him. He could beg and plead for mercy and hope that his years of service would earn it for him, but there was nothing that would keep him from being punished. The best he could wish for was that it would be swift, and not a lingering torment. Death was too much to hope for. He held his head up, hoping not to let Rum see his fear, “Master knows better than anyone how hard it is to kill Steve. If he’d have died that easily, I wouldn’t be here.”  
“You think so?”  
Bucky took in a deep breath, “Yes.”  
“Do you really?”  
_“Yes.”_  
Rum nibbled at Bucky’s ear, “You sure about that, darlin’?”  
“You …you _asshole_!” Bucky felt the color slowly return to his face as he realized that Rum was toying with him. He shoved him away, giving himself just enough room to punch him in the face, “You absolute _bastard_!”  
Rubbing his jaw where Bucky had hit him, Rum laughed, “What’s wrong, love? Don’t like it when _you’re_ the one being lied to?”  
“I hate you.” Bucky spat.  
Rum grabbed him by his underarms and hoisted him up and against the door, “I know you do, darlin’.”  
“Put me _down_ , Rum.” Bucky demanded. “I already told you, Steve is going to be here any minute!”  
“Fine.” Rum dropped him, but didn’t move away at all. Pinning one of Bucky’s arms against the wall, he slid his other hand down to Bucky’s crotch and whispered into his ear, “But why don’t you let me make it up to you before I go?”  
“I’m in _no mood_.” Bucky growled.  
With a snicker, Rum tightened his grip and licked his ear, “Sure you are. You always are.”  
Bucky shuddered, “Rum …” He hated just how right he was. Hated the way he managed to get under his skin. The way he always managed to make Bucky want him. With his free hand, he grabbed hold of Rum’s head and pulled him in to kiss him. “What the hell are you waiting for?”  
“Better stay quiet or everyone’ll come running.” Rum said before he threw Bucky facedown onto the floor.  
“Just _hurry up_!”  
Laughing darkly, Rum yanked Bucky’s pants down and took hold of his waist, “Don’t worry. If Rogers walks in you can just say I’m raping you.”  
“That’s _not_ funny.” Bucky growled, disgusted by the idea.

He bit down on his wrist to keep himself quiet. Rum was right about what would happen if everyone heard him. He could taste his blood but barely felt the pain over Rum inside him. A much better, far more intoxicating pain. He reached down for himself with his free hand, but Rum slapped it away.

“No, no, darling. What’ll Rogers think if he comes in?”  
Bucky groaned, biting down harder on his wrist.  
“Don’t whine, I’ll make it up to you.”

Bucky dug his fingernails into the carpet, again hating how right Rum was. His heart pounded. It was risky enough as it was, what they were doing. If Steve were to walk in and find them, there was no telling what would happen. Bucky was sure Steve would believe it if he said Rum was forcing him, but he didn’t want to have to resort to telling such vulgar lies. Not to Steve.

Most of what he’d told Steve about Rum was true. He _had_ been young—only just beginning to accept his servitude—and Rum _had_ been older and exciting. Different from the other servants, more dangerous. He was already favored when they met, and Bucky had been—to his own disgust—well on his way to becoming so. Initially he’d been intrigued by Rum, who was so powerful and commanding. His fascination quickly turned to lust, not months after they’d met. There was no denying he was a handsome man, after all, and knew exactly how to work Bucky’s body. Under Rum’s touch, Bucky could let go of everything and let desire command him. Nothing else could drive the ache in his heart away.

But lust soon mixed with loathing; while Bucky despised what he had to do in the Hydra’s service, Rum reveled in it. Bucky had hoped for—but eventually given up on—a chance at atonement. Rum, on the other hand, felt utterly justified in the things they did. As Bucky tried to kill off his own feelings, Rum tried to convince him he should enjoy every aspect of being the Hydra’s servant. Despite coming to despise the man, Bucky still craved his touch. It was destructive and served only to let Bucky bury himself so deeply he no longer felt the pain of his own life.

Still it felt good. He’d been craving this since his last encounter with Rum nearly a month ago. His body was on fire. The anger he’d felt at being tricked a few minutes earlier had melted away into lust, knowing that there was no one else who could deceive him that way. No one else who would try. No one else who could help him kill what was left of himself. He may have hated Rum, but he loved the things he did to him. A hint of blood dribbled down his chin, and a part of him wondered if any of his noises were being muffled at all.

It didn’t last long. Not more than a few minutes. It felt like forever, though; trapped somewhere between the pleasure he felt and the fear of being caught. It was more than just the danger his mission would be in. Bucky didn’t _want_ Steve to find him with Rum, no matter what lies he could get him to believe about it.

“Now get out of here.” He whispered.  
“You’re no fun anymore, Bucky.” Rum replied. Still, he stood up and fixed himself, knowing he had to be gone before Steve got there. He grinned when Bucky didn’t move off the floor, “Need a hand, darlin’?”  
“Fuck you.” Bucky muttered.  
Rum walked toward the window, “You just did, Buck. By the way, you better clean yourself up.”

Bucky watched him leave through the window as he tried to catch his breath. He rested his head on the carpet, not bothering to move at all. He was trembling, his body still aching with need. Part of him wanted Rum to come back, to give him what he wanted. Another part couldn’t stop reminding him about Steve. The man he was supposed to be focusing on. Shaking, he climbed to his feet and stumbled his way into the bathroom. He peeled off the remainder of his clothes and turned on the shower, then let himself fall to the floor under the spray. 

“What is wrong with me?” He muttered, letting the water wash over him.

His mind was all over the place. One minute he was perfectly fine having sex with Rum—no matter how toxic it was—and the next his mind jumped back to Steve and how it would affect him if he saw the two of them together. He had to remind himself that he didn’t care about what Steve thought; he had no real loyalty to him. Their relationship was fake, a trick so that Bucky could get close enough to weaken him and allow the Hydra to attain Its long-awaited victory. His only concern needed to be making sure Steve didn’t suspect anything. He had to focus on his mission.

“Bucky?” Steve said softly.  
Bucky jumped, turning to see him standing in the doorway, “Steve! Don’t you _knock_?”  
“I did knock.” Steve replied. “You didn’t answer. I worried.”  
“Oh …” Bucky looked away from him, “Um …could you just …give me a second?”  
“Are you okay?”  
Bucky nodded, “Fine. Just …just let me finish up here, okay?”

To his relief, Steve gave him a small nod and walked out of the bathroom. He tried to collect himself and quickly realized he still hadn’t thought up a decent story to tell Steve. There was nothing he could do now but improvise and hope for the best. He pulled himself up and shut off the water.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “just keep it together. You can do this. There’s no better liar than you.” He checked himself in the mirror, making sure there were no signs of his encounter with Rum. Satisfied, he wrapped a towel around himself and stepped back into the room.  
Steve was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room and looked up at him, “You ready to talk or would you rather get dressed first?”  
Bucky sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, “I don’t see what difference it makes.”  
“What happened to your arm?”  
“What?”  
Steve nodded to the bite on his wrist, “That.”  
Glancing down, Bucky slapped his hand over the mark, “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Old nervous habit. Thought I grew out of it, but …I guess not.”  
Steve walked over to him and took hold of his wrist, “Doesn’t look too good.”  
“It’s fine.”  
“This why there’s blood on the floor?” Steve asked, nodding between his wrist and the small stain on the carpet. It wasn’t likely anyone else would have even noticed it.  
Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”  
“We should bandage this.” Steve said.  
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky whispered, not looking at him.  
Steve rolled his eyes, “Of course you’d say that.”  
Bucky didn’t say anything, even as Steve retrieved a roll of gauze from his pack. He held out his arm and allowed Steve to wrap the wound on his wrist. For a brief moment, he almost hoped Steve was going to just let everything slide and move on. Of course, that was too much to hope for.

As soon as he finished the bandaging, Steve looked at Bucky sternly, “Well?”  
“Um …where did you …want to start?”  
“How about, what happened today?” Steve questioned.  
Bucky bit his lip, “Isn’t there anywhere else you’d rather start?”  
“Nope.”  
Bucky groaned, “Figures.”  
“Go on.”  
“Okay.” Bucky looked up at him, “Well, let’s see …I, I guess, uh, when you … when that guy almost shot you, I um …overreacted.”  
Steve raised an eyebrow at him, “Overreacted?”  
“I got scared.” Bucky admitted. “I’ve seen people die, Steve. A lot of people. People I’d just met, people I’d known for years, people. People I cared about. Sometimes I might’ve been able to save them if I’d done something different and sometimes nothing could’ve changed it. I didn’t want it to happen again.” He looked down again, “I …I didn’t want to see you die, Steve.”  
Steve continued to hold Bucky’s damaged wrist with one hand and rested the other on his shoulder, “I’m touched, Bucky. I really am. You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that you care so much about me. But you have to understand, I wouldn’t be letting my guard down if I didn’t trust you to keep us all safe.”  
“Is that supposed to be good enough, Steve?” Bucky looked back up, his face reddening. The same anger that had surged through him that day was reemerging. “What if I didn’t see him? What if I didn’t make the shot in time? What if I missed? What I hit _you_ instead? What if you _couldn’t_ trust me?”  
“Bucky, Bucky!” Steve moved his hand from Bucky’s shoulder and pressed it lightly over his mouth. “Calm down. What’s with all this? Since when did you start doubting your own marksmanship?” He pulled his hand back and went on, “You said it yourself; there’s never been a target you couldn’t shoot. Why _wouldn’t_ I trust you?”  
“I, I’m just saying, Steve. What _if_? You, you can’t just live your life trusting people like that.”  
“Why not?”  
“Why not? _Why not_?” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Because, because they’re _people,_ that’s why!”  
“Yes, they are. That’s why I trust them.”  
“ _Why?_ ” Bucky demanded, “Don’t you have any idea what kinds of things people _do_?”  
“Of course I know the kinds of things people do. That’s no reason not to trust the people around me. We’re a team, Bucky. We can’t accomplish anything if we don’t trust each other.” Steve said. “And I trust _you_.”  
“You shouldn’t.” Bucky whispered, looking down again.  
Steve took hold of his chin and tilted his face back up, “Why not?”  
Bucky could feel tears prick his eyes, “Because I’m …a bad person …”  
“You’re not a bad person, Buck.” Steve promised softly. “You’re a good person. You’re just a really complicated good person.”  
“Oh, Steve,” Bucky stood up and walked to the other side of the room, “you don’t even _know_ me.”  
“Yeah, you said that before.”  
“But you still trust me.” Bucky leaned against the windowsill, resting his forehead against the glass. “You still think I’m a ‘good person’. You still …you still think you …love me.”  
“I _do_ love you.”  
“No! No you don’t, Steve. You can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
Bucky was unsure if the moisture he felt on his face was tears or leftover water from the shower, “What if I told you I’ve had sex with more than a hundred people?”  
Steve shrugged, “I’m okay with being number one hundred-one.”  
“I’ve done it for money.”  
“That’s your business, Bucky, not mine.”  
“I’m a thief, too. You can’t imagine how much I’ve stolen. And not just when I absolutely needed to; sometimes I did just because I wanted something.”  
Again Steve just shrugged, “People make mistakes. You did a bad thing, that doesn’t make you a bad person.”  
Bucky spun around, “I’ve killed people!”  
“I know you have.”  
“No, Steve, not just people working for the Hydra. I’ve killed _people_. Innocent people. Lot’s and lot’s of innocent people.”  
Steve just looked at him, compelling him to go on.  
“I …” The word’s died on his tongue. His throat tightened. Bucky couldn’t breathe. It was a warning; he’d been about to go too far. His body had frozen to stop him from telling Steve the full truth. That he was a servant of the Hydra. That he’d murdered countless people in Its service. The curse on him, placed there by the Hydra Itself when he began his mission, kept him from doing so.  
“Bucky!” Steve rushed over to him, helped him back to the bed. “It’s okay, Bucky, just breathe. It’s okay.”  
Sobbing, Bucky rushed to come up with a lie, “On …on the Oceanus. They didn’t just …they didn’t just kill people, Steve. They …made … _us_ do it. Kill … _each other_.”  
“That’s not your fault, Bucky.”  
“I didn’t even hesitate, Steve! All I cared about was saving my own damn neck! You …you have no idea how much blood is on these hands …”  
Steve held Bucky against him, “That’s not your fault.”  
“Stop saying that …”  
“Look, I won’t deny it; you did a horrible thing. But I won’t hold that against you. I can’t imagine how afraid you must’ve been. And I …I may not agree with it …in fact, I admit I’m disturbed by it, but I still can’t _fault_ you for it. Not under those circumstances and not when it’s so clearly eating away at you like this.”  
“You wouldn’t have done it. You’d have found a way to save everyone.”  
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. But what you did then, it doesn’t matter. You’ve suffered enough for it, Bucky. Sounds like they made sure of it. You don’t need to keep punishing yourself.”  
“Stop it, Steve.” Bucky whispered. “Please, just stop it.”  
“Stop what?”  
“Stop being so damn perfect.”  
Steve shook his head, “I’m not perfect.”  
“Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you act like you have so much … _faith_ in me?”  
“Because I do. I have faith in you, Bucky. I love you.”  
“Stop saying that!” Bucky cried. “Just stop it!”  
“I can’t. I’m honest, that’s the only way I know how to be. I don’t care that I’ve only known you about a month. I don’t care that you’ve made mistakes and have secrets. I still love you, Bucky.”  
“You know, only one other person ever treated me like you do.” Bucky found himself admitting, somewhat bitterly. “And _he_ didn’t mean a word of it.”  
“Thomas?”  
Bucky stiffened, but nodded.  
“What happened?”  
“I …I don’t want you thinking poorly of him …”  
“Too late.”  
“Please reconsider that.”  
“He hurt you.”  
Bucky shook his head, “You don’t know what happened, Steve!”  
“Then tell me, Bucky. Tell me what happened.”  
“I …we were young, when we met. Thomas, he …he and I, we were kids together. We played together and got into all kinds of trouble. When my parents died and I was on my own, I didn’t have any time for that sort of thing. Eventually we both left home. Went our own separate ways. After a while I came home, went on living by myself. And then …and then Thomas came back too, and everything was different. _We_ were different. Thomas, he …he was my only friend. I wanted to be more but I was afraid. I thought he’d reject me, but …”  
“But?” Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to hear; the way Bucky spoke about Thomas, still so fond of him, was painful knowing the story wasn’t going to end well.  
“I was sick. Pneumonia, I suppose. I couldn’t go into town to see the doctor because I was so weak. I couldn’t have afforded him anyway. I was alone in my house for days, just waiting to die. And then Thomas came. Said he was worried when he hadn’t seen me for so long. He took care of me. Saved my life. And then he told me that he loved me. I was so happy. We lived together after that. I don’t even remember how long it lasted. Damn it, he even asked me to marry him!” Bucky paused, unwilling to go on. He knew he had to, though; it was too late to turn back. “And then, one day …”  
Steve held him tighter, “Go on, Bucky, I’m listening.”  
“Thomas was hurt. He’d fallen, hurt himself badly. We couldn’t pay the doctor, so I …so I …” He felt his throat closing again, like he knew it would. He had to lie. “I slept with him.”  
“Who?”  
“The doctor. I slept with him, in exchange for his services.”  
“Did he save Thomas?”  
Bucky nodded, “Yes. He saved him. He saved Thomas. But Thomas …Thomas …I betrayed him. He was _mine_ and I was supposed to be _his_. I was for _him_ and only _him_ but I gave myself to another man. And he …Thomas, he …he couldn’t forgive me for that. He left, as soon as he was healed. He left me and I never saw him again.”  
“Oh, Bucky …”  
“So now you know.” Bucky went on quickly, too afraid of hearing Steve’s reaction. He pulled out of Steve’s arms and stood up, “Now you know what happened. It was _my_ fault, Steve, not Thomas’s. So please, don’t think badly of him.”  
“The hell I won’t.”  
“Damn it, Steve—” As Bucky turned around, his sentence died on his lips.

He never imagined Steve Rogers could be so livid.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'nother short chapter. Sorry 'bout that.

Steve struggled to keep himself calm. Listening to Bucky’s story had been hard enough, but to hear him blame himself for it was just too much. He always tried to be understanding, to imagine things from the other person’s perspective and accept that sometimes people did things he would just never agree with. This time, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t accept what Thomas had done to Bucky. He couldn’t accept the reasoning behind it.

“Steve?” Bucky almost looked afraid.  
“How can you tell me a story like that and expect me not to hate him?” Steve questioned.  
Bucky shook his head, “It was _me_ , Steve! It was _my_ fault!”  
Steve gripped the mattress, forcing himself to stay sitting and not risk scaring Bucky any further, “You paid a doctor with your own _body_ to save _his life_. And he walked out on you for it? He was mad at _you_?”  
“Of course he was mad at me! What I did was unthinkable!”  
“ _Unthinkable_?” Steve couldn’t stop himself from jumping to his feet this time. “Unthinkable is that the doctor accepted that kind of payment in the first place! That he took advantage of the situation that way! _Unthinkable_ is that you hurt yourself to save him, and he _resented_ and _abandoned_ you for it!”  
Bucky held his hands out, “Steve, listen to me, please. Thomas had every right to hate me for what I did. I can’t blame him for leaving me, no one can!”  
“Don’t give me that. You don’t believe a word of it.”  
“What …what d’you mean?”  
“You said before that Thomas didn’t mean a word of what he said to you. You said you gave him a chance to be close to you, but you shouldn’t have.”  
“That’s …I mean, I …”

Steve understood Bucky’s hesitation. He so obviously resented Thomas for hurting him, for walking away when he’d probably been more vulnerable than ever. When he must have desperately needed his support after using himself as payment. But more than anything, Steve could tell that Bucky still loved Thomas. Still loved him enough that he justified his leaving by placing the blame on himself. It didn’t matter that Bucky was angry with Thomas for leaving; he would still protect him from others and paint him as the real victim. Himself as the unfaithful lover who drove him away.

“Don’t protect him, Bucky.” Steve said, hoping his voice was softer now.  
“I have to.”  
“No, you don’t. He hurt you.”  
“I know that, but I hurt him first. He loved me and—”  
“Did he?” Steve questioned.   
“Of course he did!”  
Steve sighed, “Then why did he walk away? If he really loved you, why didn’t he understand why you did what you did?”  
“Steve …”  
“Come on, Bucky, listen to yourself! One minute you’re talking about what a mistake it was to be with him, the next you’re acting like _he’s_ the one who was wronged.” Steve knew he was taking a risk by trying to push Bucky, but he couldn’t hold it back. “I get it, you still love him. You’re mad at him, but you don’t want anyone else to be. You’re okay saying he wronged you until someone knows he’s the one you’re talking _about_.”  
Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, “No, that’s not …it was a mistake because of _me_. Because _I_ can’t make a relationship work.”  
“I don’t believe that.”  
Opening his eyes, Bucky licked his lips, “Okay. Maybe I _am_ a little mad at him. But that …that’s just me being petty. I’m the only one to blame. I just hate to admit it.”  
“Stop _lying_.” Steve moved closer to Bucky until there was no more than an arm’s length between them. “Please.”  
“I wish it were that simple, Steve.” Bucky said. “But it’s just not.”  
“Sure it is.” Steve replied. “ _Talk_ to me. You don’t have to hide everything.”  
“Yes I do.” Bucky whispered, lowering his head and pressing his back against the wall behind him.  
Steve closed the gap between them and tilted Bucky’s chin up, “No, you don’t. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to make me leave you.” With his free hand he wiped the tears away from Bucky’s face, “I know you’re scared, Bucky. And I know you’re hurt. But I’m not like him. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to hide from me.”  
Bucky leaned his head against Steve’s chest, “You’re too good for me, Steve. So was Thomas.”  
Wrapping his arms around him, Steve sighed, “You’re wrong on both counts, Buck.”  
“What do you want me to say, Steve?” Bucky questioned. He sounded exhausted. “That he just used me, because I was easy for him to trick? Because he wanted to have someone who would give him what he wanted? That he made it very, very clear when he left that he never loved me? That I spend every day asking myself if it was worth it, those years living in a fool’s paradise?”  
“If that’s the truth.” Steve replied. He kissed the top of Bucky’s head, “If that’s the truth then I want to hear it.”  
“He never loved me,” Bucky whispered, “because I didn’t deserve it.”  
“That’s not true Bucky.” Steve said. “Of course you deserve it. You deserve to be loved. You _are_ loved.”  
“Steve …”

Steve held Bucky tighter, hoping to somehow convey everything he felt through his embrace. He couldn’t stand to hear him tear himself down so much. The knowledge that Bucky thought so lowly of himself was unbearable. He was sure he’d never hated anyone as much as he hated Thomas. There was no way he could forgive the damage he’d done to Bucky. But he would do everything in his power to help him heal.

Bucky looked up at him, “I don’t know how to love anymore.”  
“You’ll learn.” Steve assured him.  
“Kiss me.”  
Doing as he asked, Steve let Bucky push him back toward the bed. Flat on his back atop the mattress, he broke the kiss, “Bucky, wait.”  
“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, sitting up.  
“I’m not going to have sex with you right now.”  
Bucky looked hurt, “Why not? I don’t think anyone’s ever turned me down in my life and now you’ve done it _three_ times.”  
“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Steve said, “I just don’t feel right about it. You’re too emotional right now. It would be wrong.”  
“Do you really think I wouldn’t want to do this if I weren’t emotional?”  
“That’s not really the point, Bucky.” Steve shook his head. “I can’t be okay with it. And I know what you’re doing. You use sex to avoid your feelings. I’m not gonna let you do that. Not with me.”  
Bucky frowned, “You are the worst person ever.”  
Steve raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Five minutes ago I was perfect.”  
“Shut up.” Bucky pinched his arm. “You’re being mean to me.”  
“You’ll thank me some day.” Steve said.  
“I hope you’re right about that.” Bucky sighed.  
Steve reached up and touched his face, “I promise.”  
“Can I at least keep kissing you?”  
“Please do.”

Late in the night, Steve couldn’t get his mind off of the day’s events. He was still on his back, Bucky curled up pressed against him. Even in his sleep he looked uncertain, his emotions still eating at him. Steve could barely comprehend what he’d told him. From the Oceanus to what happened with Thomas, it was more than Steve could have imagined. It was no wonder Peggy had been unsettled by it. There was no doubt she’d read the full report of the Oceanus, that she knew what he’d done and under what circumstances.

He couldn’t condone it, the killing of another person to save one’s own life. To Steve, such a thing was unimaginable. But he couldn’t blame Bucky for it; couldn’t blame any one of them for it. Not really. He had no way to know what sort of horrors were done to the passengers of the Oceanus, no idea of the terror Bucky had felt. But the guilt coming off him as he spoke of it had been almost tangible. Devouring him like cancer.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the memory of Bucky’s face as he spoke. He had never seen such self-loathing before. The pain showed through every ounce of his being, clear even when he had his back to him. Steve wanted nothing more than to soothe it all away. To mend Bucky’s wounds, give him the love he’d been so long denied.

As hard as he tried he couldn’t stop the resentment he felt toward Thomas. To think that after Bucky had gone to such lengths to help him, he’d turned his back on him that way. Used it as an excuse to abandon him. Lied and used him from the beginning. It was unforgivable. Steve looked at Bucky sleeping beside him, and couldn’t imagine leaving his side. Ever.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicidal thoughts, drug use, and vague mentions of sex work which is technically non-consensual due to mind control ahead. Happy Halloween, readers! :)

Bucky pressed himself closer to Steve as the sun began to streak in through the blinds. He knew they would have to be up in the next few minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. Not when Steve was so warm and soft. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so safe and secure. He wondered how his life would have turned out had he met Steve before his relationship with Thomas. Would Steve have cared for him the way he did now? Would he take the time to talk to him the way he did, would he want to know him if he had no past? No dark secrets?

He sighed and pushed the thought out of his head. There was no point in dwelling on what could have been. All that mattered was what was. And what was, was his mission. It didn’t matter what Steve felt for him or what he felt for Steve. His only job was to get close to Steve, and stay close enough to him to find a weakness the Hydra could exploit. Getting attached to him, wanting his approval and affection would only distract him from his mission. Would only make it that much harder to kill him.

Sitting up slowly, Bucky stretched and rubbed his face. Never before had a mission been this difficult for him. It wasn’t that he enjoyed manipulating people and hurting—even killing—those who opposed the Hydra. His servitude, from the very beginning, was never due to loyalty, but his contract. And a contract with the Hydra was binding and unbreakable. Until the day he died he was cursed to obey Its orders whether he wanted to or not. He’d learned quickly that resisting would only make it worse; years of reluctant cooperation had earned him a place among the Hydra’s most favored servants. He had freedoms and comforts afforded only to a few. And now he’d been trusted with the most sensitive of missions.

Ever since Abraham Erskine had first developed his Super Soldier Serum, the Hydra—or Johann Schmidt, as It called Itself now—had become more determined to seize full control over humanity. The Serum was the only possible weapon that could allow a human to stand up to It, something It wasn’t willing to risk. Steve had been the only person given the Serum before Schmidt was able to have Erskine killed. Nevertheless, Steve inspired humanity enough to lead them in driving Its forces back. Even the smaller resistances, not serving any one country, were eager to rally behind him.

Schmidt was determined to be rid of Steve as soon as possible, feeling truly threatened for the first time ever. There were whispers, even among Schmidt’s own followers, that Steve could bring the world to a final victory. There was no temptation that could win him over, no force too powerful for him to overcome. That was why Bucky had been sent in. To weaken him. To find a way to destroy Steve before Steve destroyed Schmidt.

But as much as Bucky wanted to believe in Captain America—in Steve—the way so many others did, he knew not to hope. The only way Steve would succeed was if Bucky failed. And if Bucky failed …he didn’t want to think of the consequences. 

The Hydra always found a way to come back, in the guise of a new person, no matter what losses It suffered. Its last persona, Wolfgang Von Strucker, had waged a four-year long war over twenty years earlier that ended in a devastating defeat. But It had recovered, disguising Itself as an ordinary human and taking control of several countries before revealing Itself again. Even if humanity could defeat Its latest incarnation, It wouldn’t stay gone for long. So long as Its source of magic—an object even a favored servant like Bucky had never actually seen—was still in tact, It could always come back. And the things It would do to him when It returned if he failed would be worse than any nightmare he could imagine.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked, draping his arm over him.  
Bucky jumped, having not noticed him wake up, “Steve!”  
Steve offered him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
Leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder, Bucky laughed, “Of course you didn’t. You never mean to, you just do it.”  
“I’m sorry.” Steve said again.  
“It’s okay, Steve. Don’t worry about it.”  
“Are _you_ okay?”  
Bucky sighed, “Close enough.”  
Steve kissed his temple, “I’m sorry I upset you. I shouldn’t have yelled.”  
Closing his eyes, Bucky shook his head, “It’s fine. Maybe you were right. And I just don’t want to admit any of it.”  
“You sure you’re okay?”  
“Yes, Steve, I’m sure.”

Bucky felt drained. He’d never talked about Thomas with anyone before. Never told a soul about what had happened, how he’d been tossed aside so easily. It wasn’t the full truth he told to Steve—that would require him revealing his contract—but it was almost all of it. He _had_ offered himself to the doctor in exchange for getting him to help Thomas, but the doctor had refused him. Told him he wasn’t about to accept such an _insulting_ payment. It had been the Hydra that saved Thomas, taking Bucky as Its servant in return. 

It had promised him that he would not be called to serve It until his time with Thomas came to an end, only for Thomas to leave him immediately after. He’d found someone else, he said, someone who had more to offer him. Bucky had assumed he wouldn’t live more than another few decades, but the Hydra had had other plans for him. His lifespan had been extended, lasting far longer than humanly possible. His body healed faster than almost anyone else’s. He did not get sick. He could not kill himself nor simply allow himself to be killed; it had taken years of trying for him to finally accept that. The only way he would die was if he was truly overpowered or taken by complete surprise. A curse placed upon only the most favored servants. To those favorites more loyal, like Rum, it was a great honor. To Bucky, it was an endless hell.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep.” Steve said, squeezing him lightly. “We have to get going soon.”  
“Do we _have_ to?” Bucky questioned. “Can’t we just stay in here today?”  
“No, there’s still one last factory for us to take down in this area. Then it’s back to base to regroup and plan our next move.” Steve replied. “Besides, you still owe the guys an apology.”  
Bucky groaned, “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”  
“Best to just get it over with.” Steve said.  
“Can’t you do it for me?”  
Steve laughed, “Sorry, baby, but you’re not getting off the hook _that_ easily.”  
“You’re so mean.”  
“Come on,” Steve got out of the bed and started to get himself dressed, “let’s get moving.”

Reluctantly, Bucky followed suit. He knew he owed the rest of the team an apology, but that didn’t make him any more anxious to do it. He worried they wouldn’t accept his apologies, that things would be awkward and unpleasant from there on out. As much as he knew he wasn’t supposed to form any sort of attachment, he didn’t like the thought of any animosity between them.

The team was waiting for them in the lobby of the hotel. Steve greeted them easily, as though nothing had happened at all. Of course, that was because Steve wasn’t the problem. Bucky was the one who needed to clear the air, he just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Fortunately, Steve seemed to have that covered.

He clapped him on the back, clearing his throat, “Bucky, I think there’s something you wanted to say?”  
Bucky bit his lip and shifted his weight uncomfortably, “I don’t suppose I could just buy a round and we forget all this?”  
Jones snorted, “No can do, Barnes. Nothing less than a long, painful apology’s gonna cut it.”  
“You can still buy us a round, though.” Dugan added.  
Bucky took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I …I was completely unreasonable. There’s no excuse for my behavior. I, I really don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”  
“What do you think, boys?” Falsworth asked, looking at the rest of the group.  
Morita shrugged, “Seemed pretty painful.”  
“It’ll do.” Jones said.  
“You’re still gonna buy us a round though, right?” Dugan questioned.  
Bucky risked a smile, “Yes, I will still buy a round.”

They let it drop there, moving the conversation on. Bucky didn’t bother paying much attention to it, too relieved that they’d accepted his apology. The level of trust they displayed for one another didn’t exist among the Hydra’s ranks. Hydra servants pushed and stepped on each other, doing anything it took to be in their master’s good graces. Loyalty to one another was a means to an end; it lasted only as long as it was needed. Even his relationship with Rum—easily the sturdiest of all between servants—was nothing more than mutual desire.

Bucky had to admit to himself that life with the Howling Commandos was far better than serving the Hydra. Despite the luxuries he had—when he wasn’t on a mission, he could do nearly anything he wished that wouldn’t expose him—it was a painful and lonely existence. There was an emptiness to it that he couldn’t be rid of no matter what he did. His time with Steve and the others almost filled it.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. There was a long way to go before they reached their next destination, and no time to waste. With every day that passed the Hydra gained more power, no matter how much they managed to push It back. They didn’t stop until it was too dark to continue and they had to make camp for the night.

“So how far _is_ this factory?” Morita asked as they ate dinner.  
“About another day and half’s walk.” Peggy replied. “But it’s the last one we know about at the moment, so it’s of utmost importance that we take them by surprise so they can’t get rid of any information about the rest of them. Otherwise it could be some time before we manage to get another chance.”  
“Those things spread like weeds.” Jones commented. “Feels like each one we take out …well …”  
“That _is_ their boast.” Falsworth said. “Can’t say the Hydra doesn’t live up to it.”  
Bucky sighed, “If It didn’t this would’ve been over a long, long time ago.”

He knew too well how fully the Hydra made good on Its promises. It twisted Its words and hid Its true meanings, but It always kept Its promises. Bucky knew that better than anyone; other than death, the only way out of a contract was for the Hydra to break it. Something that never happened. Bucky supposed if It died a permanent death it would void all of the contracts, but so long as Its mysterious power source existed that wouldn’t happen. No one ever left the Hydra’s service except in death. And how he longed for it.

 

1987

_James walks into his apartment with a sigh of relief. His missions take a toll on him. He always returns exhausted and disoriented. The details never stay with him. He can’t tell what he remembers doing and what is only in his head. It isn’t surprising, of course, that he can’t keep his facts straight; the copious amount of substances he subjects himself to would mess with anyone’s head. Uppers, downers, it doesn’t make a difference to him as long as it feels good._

_They almost always involve sex, that much he knows. Using his body as payment to secure some high-profile someone’s loyalty to the boss. Getting close enough to someone to collect information. Distracting someone while one of the others got what they needed. He could seduce anyone. There isn’t a soul alive, man or woman, who doesn’t fall for his charms. That was why the boss keeps him around._

_The drugs are helpful. They let him slip away to somewhere else while his body is used. He doesn’t_ mind _the sex, but it’s so often unsatisfying that he doesn’t care to even feel it. Very few can ever give him what he wants. Not that it matters; it’s more often about_ their _needs, not his. His needs he has to see to on his own time. Fortunately he can always count on Brock to be there after each mission to do just that._

_He walks toward the bathroom, peeling away the synthetic skin that covers his left arm and flexing his mechanical fingers. He hates the covering; it’s uncomfortable and restricting. But he has to wear it when he goes out; people would notice his metal arm otherwise, and he would be unable to blend in properly. When he is alone, though, it’s the first thing to go._

_“One of these days,” James mutters to himself, “I’ll never have to wear that thing again.”_

_He grabs the prescription bottle from his pocket and places it on the counter. Inside are the small blue pills he is to keep with him at all times. For others, they induced an intense feeling of euphoria. For him, they stop the headaches he so frequently suffers. He dry swallows two pills—even though he’s technically only supposed to take one a day unless he experiences a headache—and removes his clothes, then steps into the shower. The hot water feels good against his sore body, soothing away whatever he’d done on his mission. Brock had told him it had taken a few days; he suspects he’d spent the time with one of those high-profile someone’s. They tended to keep him around for days at a time when they could. They usually had plenty of drugs to offer, too._

_It doesn’t matter, though, what the mission was. He’d completed it and that was that. He could go back to spending his days hooking up and drinking and taking whatever substances he was given. Anonymity, slipping unseen through any crowds he pleased. Waiting for the next phone call, the next mission. It was always the same._

_James doesn’t mind. That’s his life. There is nothing more to it. Trying to make more out of it would only make it harder. Only exhaust him all the more. It was better to just enjoy what he could, and bury what he couldn’t._

_Finishing his shower, he makes his way straight to his bedroom, not bothering to even dry off. He drops down onto the bed, wanting to sleep. But when he closes his eyes, an image flits through his mind that has him bolting upright. A man. A man he’s never seen before. Handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Tall and muscular. A smile more wonderful than anything else in the world. Someone James wants to know. Who is he? Why had he seen him in his head for that brief moment? There was something about him, something familiar. Something important. His heart pounds. Who is that man? He has to know. He has to find out._

_He throws himself out of bed and rushes back into the living room. There isn’t much to his apartment; it’s a small, dingy place and he doesn’t have many possessions. But on the coffee table is a pile of magazines he only reads in order to keep up with the world around him. He won’t blend in as well if he doesn’t know enough pop culture. Grabbing the first one off the pile, he flips through it meticulously, examining every picture. Not seeing the man anywhere, he tosses it aside and reaches for the next one. The man isn’t in any of the magazines. Whoever he is, he isn’t someone the tabloids focus on. Could he have hooked up with him?_

_“No …” He shakes his head. “No he wouldn’t be at some club …”_

_How he knows that, he can’t tell, but he’s certain of it. That man is not one to hang around at the sort of place James finds his partners. Perhaps he’d met him on one of his missions? It’s possible; he meets all sorts of people on assignment. That feels right. He knows this man from a mission. But which one? What had he done to bring him to this man? Was he part of the mission? Who is he?_

_“Steve …”_

_Pain tears through his skull and he grabs his head in attempt to stifle it. He feels as though it’s going to split in two. Vision blurring, he stumbles back to the bathroom and grabs the prescription bottle from the counter. Not willing to take a chance, he swallows down a handful of pills the moment he gets the bottle open._

_His mind goes blank. The pain is gone. For a moment, he isn’t sure where he is or what he is doing. He looks down, sees the pill bottle in his hand. Headache. He’d had another headache. He groans and picks himself up off the floor. Slowly he makes his way into the living room. Why are his magazines all over the floor? He reaches out for the phone, dials the same number he always does after his headaches get that bad. It rings twice before the other person picks up._

_“Yes?”  
James closes his eyes, “Dr. Zola? It happened again.”_


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincerest apologies for the wait! The chapter contains vaguely suicidal thoughts.  
> Tell me your thoughts!

1943

Steve looked over the debris of what had once been a factory. The mission, while successful, had not gotten them the information they were hoping for. Those running the factory had destroyed all records of other factories, leaving them with nothing left to follow. All they could do from there was to work on individual towns, which—while every bit at important—was less organized and far more likely to put civilians in danger. Taking down the factories limited the Hydra’s options, diminishing both its forces and weapons supply. It was also their best chance at running into Schmidt.

He’d had several encounters with Schmidt, all of which had gone the same way. They would fight, eventually Steve gaining the upper hand. Then Schmidt would flee. Nothing was more frustrating than having to watch him escape, knowing they would have to start over again from there. Steve hated how easily Schmidt ran away, vanished into thin air. He would never understand how such a cowardly being had gained so much power.

“Captain!” Dernier called, not far from him. “We’re ready to move out!”  
Steve gave him a nod, “I’ll be right there.”

Taking one last look at the debris, Steve followed him away from the ruins. There was just nothing left to do now but wait for further information in order to continue. He could feel a coldness trying to make its way into his gut. A sense of defeat trying to claw at him, to ruin him. He pushed back at it, reminding himself that they would have more information soon—between Stark and Peggy, gathering data was almost easy—and they would be able to move again. He would be back in the fight before he knew it.

Still, the knowledge that more factories would be built, more lives destroyed while they waited was painful. It didn’t really matter how many towns they freed when the Hydra would just take control of more somewhere else. They had to choke off its supplies, slow it down until Schmidt was cornered and defeated. For good.

“Hey, earth to Steve!” Bucky shoved him lightly, “What’s going on in there?”  
He shook his head, tossing his arm over him, “Nothing. Just a little …disappointed.”  
“Come on, Steve,” Jones said, “don’t be like that. We wiped out an entire map, you should be proud.”  
“I _am_.” Steve replied. “I just wish we had somewhere to go from here.”  
“We will.” Morita assured him. “We always do.”  
“I know, I know. Ignore me.” Steve said. “I’m fine.”  
Dugan snorted, “Course you are. You always are.”

Offering a laugh, Steve ignored the rest of their conversation. He wasn’t trying to bring down the mood or seem dissatisfied with what they’d accomplished so far. He knew he ought to be grateful for every victory—and he was—but he would never be fully satisfied until the world was safe at last. Until no one was living in fear. He wondered if such a thing was even possible.

What _would_ the world be like if humanity no longer lived in constant terror of the Hydra? If the world was certain it would never return? Would the world be able to move on, to focus on better things? On medicine and building homes and creating jobs? His mother had always told him that if the world could just move beyond its fear of the Hydra, it could become a far better place. That _people_ could be better.

He wondered what she would think if she could see him now. Would she be proud of him? Would she have been angry that he’d gone through with such a risk procedure? Both? He didn’t know. He hoped she would be pleased with what he’d dedicated himself to. He would never know for sure.

“Steve?”  
“Huh?” Steve glanced around; he was alone with Bucky in their camp now. It was dark out. “What …”  
“You’ve been outta your head for hours, Steve.” Bucky said.  
“I didn’t …” Steve shook his head, “I’m sorry, Buck.”  
“Wanna share what’s on your mind?”  
“Not really.”  
“Not really?” Bucky repeated.  
“It’s nothing.” Steve insisted. “Don’t worry about it.”  
Bucky stood up and tugged on his arm, “Come on, Steve. Come walk with me.”  
“Where to?”  
Still pulling as though he would somehow be able to move him, Bucky nodded behind him, “Just come walk with me.”  
Steve stood up, “Alright, alright.”  
Bucky lead him toward the woods, “You could stand to be a little more enthusiastic.”  
Feigning a glare, Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist and pulled him closer, “Happy?”  
“It’ll do.” Bucky replied, smirking.  
“So where are we going?” Steve asked again.  
“You’ll see.”  
“Have you been here before, Bucky?”  
“This afternoon, remember? I wouldn’t be too good at this job if I didn’t know how to memorize my surroundings real quick.”  
“Fair enough.”  
“I used to go for walks at night.” Bucky said. “People thought I was weird but I loved it. So quiet and still. No one else around.”  
“Never been afraid of the dark, huh?”  
Bucky shook his head, “Nope. Not one bit.”  
“Not something everyone can boast.” Steve commented.  
“Well, I’m not everyone.” Bucky stated.  
“No, you’re certainly not.” Steve agreed. “But that might just be the best thing about you.”  
Bucky ducked his head, hiding his smile, “Stop trying to flatter me. We’re here.”  
Steve glanced around but saw nothing of interest, “Where?”  
Bucky pulled him toward a stream just in front of them, and sat down at the edge of it, “Right here.”  
“Here?” Steve questioned, sitting down beside him.  
“Yeah. Here. This spot right here. It’s perfect.”  
Steve nodded toward the stream, “Because of that?”  
“That’s right. I love the sound of water. It’s …there’s nothing quite like it. It’s soothing.”  
“Soothing?” Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever stopped to actually listen to running water.  
Bucky leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder and nodded, “Uh-huh. Rivers, the ocean, rain, just water. I don’t know what it is, but I just _love_ it. It’s so …so _free_.”  
“What d’you mean, free?”  
“Just, free. Water sounds like freedom.”  
“Bucky, I …I’m not sure I understand.”  
“Nothing stops water.” Bucky explained. “Sure you can dam it and try to block it, but it keeps on going anyway. It never stops flowing, not really, and eventually a tiny trickle can wear away a stone wall. You can’t take away water’s freedom. Not forever.”  
“I’ve never thought about that.”  
“I do. All the time. Whenever I’m near the ocean or a river. Every time it rains. Or snows. In the shower. Nights when I can’t sleep …”  
“Bucky?”  
“Sometimes I just …I feel so trapped …I wish I could just melt into a river and float away into the ocean. Never to be seen or heard from again …”  
“Bucky why’re you saying this?” Steve shifted them so that he could look him in the eye. “Bucky?”  
“I …I don’t know.” Bucky admitted. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”  
“You …you don’t _really_ want to disappear, do you?”  
Bucky shrugged, “Who knows? Sometimes. I guess I thought maybe if I said it out loud it would sound ridiculous and I wouldn’t think it anymore.”  
“Did it work?”  
“No.”  
Steve reached out and touched his face, “I don’t want you to disappear, Bucky. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you.”  
“Then talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. You’re so dead set on being there for me, let _me_ be here _you_.”  
“Is that …is that what this is about?”  
“Of course it is. Something’s bothering you, Steve. I want to know what.”  
“It’s nothing.”  
“You’re such a bad liar.”  
Steve sighed, “Okay, okay. I just …I hate it when we have to wait like this. It makes me feel helpless. I can’t stand it.”  
“After I told you everything I told you, you’re just going to leave me with _that_?”  
“I guess that _is_ unfair, isn’t it?”  
“Well you know how to fix that.”  
“I, um …” Steve hesitated, but he knew it was unfair of him to hide himself from Bucky after he’d told him so much. He looked away from him, “I guess it …it reminds me of my mom.”  
“How’s that?”  
“When I was twelve she got sick. Tuberculosis. She was so strong but …it wore her down. She just wasted away. All I could do was watch. I couldn’t pay the doctor. I stopped going to school and sold newspapers all day, but I still couldn’t make enough. And then one day …she was gone …” Steve flinched and looked up when Bucky reached out and wiped away the tears he hadn’t known were there. When Bucky said nothing, Steve went on, “I was sitting with her and she just closed her eyes and faded away. And that was that. I couldn’t do anything for her. After everything she did I couldn’t help her. Now I spend every day wondering what she’d think if she were here. If she could see me now.”  
“She’d be proud of you, Steve.” Bucky said softly. “I may not have known her, but how could she not be? All the good you’ve done would make any mother proud.”  
“I just can’t help thinking it’s not enough …”  
“Steve, you’ve saved hundreds, maybe thousands of lives. You’re the most inspiring man on the face of the earth. You’ve dedicated your entire life to standing up to the biggest bully that’s ever existed. And you’re actually _hurting_ it. The Hydra is _afraid_ of you. People all over the world have _hope_ because of you.”  
“They have hope because of a tacky political gimmick.”  
Bucky glared at him, “No, they have hope because of _you_. Quit selling yourself short, Steve. Don’t you have any idea what you do to people?”  
Steve shook his head and shrugged, “What?”  
“You bring out the best in everyone. You inspire them, you make them feel stronger on the inside. You …you make them want to be _better_ , Steve.” Bucky looked away from him, “You make … _me_ want to be better …”  
“Bucky …” Steve wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t understand how he could possibly have such an effect on anyone. It made him wonder if maybe he did have something to make his mother proud.  
“And it’s not how strong or fast you are, either.” Bucky continued, looking up again. “It’s just _you_. You’re so … _good_. I’ve never seen anyone do the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing like you do. There’s no one in the world quite like you. I can understand why Erskine picked you; if anyone deserves to be called Super Soldier, it’s you. And I …”  
“You?”  
“I just, I wish I could’ve met you before any of this ever happened.” Bucky whispered.  
Sighing, Steve dropped his head onto Bucky’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Buck.”  
“For what?”  
“I don’t know, everything. I’m just really sorry.” Steve said. “You brought me out here to make me feel better and I upset you.”  
“It’s alright, I just want you to understand how much you mean to …everyone.”  
“Everyone, huh?” Steve muttered.  
“Yes, Captain, everyone.” Bucky replied. He rubbed the back of Steve’s neck, “You mean more than you know to us all. We need you, Steve.”  
Lifting his head, Steve offered a weak smile, “Thank you, Bucky.”  
Bucky kissed him, then leaned his head against his arm, “Tell me something about her.”  
“Who?”  
“Your mother, of course.”  
“What else do you want to know about her?”  
“Anything.”  
“She loved to bake. And she liked books. She helped me with my schoolwork whenever she could. And she …she used to sing to me when I was sick. Which was all the time. She had a …terrible voice …”  
Bucky snorted, “Oh that’s nice of you, Steve.”  
Steve laughed a little, “She did. She had a really terrible voice. And I couldn’t hear so well, so she had to sing extra loud and that didn’t help. But she loved to sing and I loved to hear her. She had to do so much for me; knit extra clothes for the winter and carrying cigarettes for my asthma and making sure we always had the foods I needed and getting antacids and just so, so much. She did everything she could for me, but when I got especially sick, there wasn’t anything else she could do but try to make me more comfortable. So she’d sing. And she lit up when she sang and I knew it made her happy, so it made me happy.”  
“What kinds of songs would she sing?”  
“Mostly lullabies and church hymns.” Steve said, a faint smile on his lips as he remembered all the times his mother had sung over him as he lay sick in his bed. “She may’ve hurt my ears, but everything else felt better. And she fought tooth and nail to make sure I had every chance she could give me. She taught me to be strong ..."  
“I wish I could’ve met her.” Bucky said softly. “Sounds like she was wonderful.”  
“She was …she was the best.”  
“She raised one hell of a man, too.” Bucky commented.  
“So you keep telling me.” Steve replied.

He looked at the stream in front of them, contemplating what Bucky had said about it. How he thought it sounded free, how it soothed him. The more he thought about it, the more he began to understand it. Water _couldn’t_ be tamed. Not truly. He wondered if Bucky had ever told anyone else about his thoughts. Somehow, he didn’t think he had. Something about that made him feel proud. Prouder of anything he’d accomplished before.

“I love you, Bucky.” He whispered.  
Bucky hummed in return, “Whatever you say, Captain.”

Steve couldn’t see his face, but he had a strong feeling Bucky was smiling when he said it.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional turmoil, sexual content, and brainwashing up ahead.  
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!

“So you really do come to this place every time you’re back here, huh?” Bucky questioned. They were back at Steve’s favorite restaurant, filling time before they were given new information.  
Steve smiled, “Yes, I do.”  
“Are you ever not so sincere?”  
“Oh come on, Buck, you know I’m a terrible liar.” Steve said.  
Bucky laughed, “That you are. You should get Agent Carter to give you lessons; dame has the best poker face I’ve ever seen.”  
“She tried.” Steve admitted. “Told me how to keep my face straight and to be easygoing about it. Never got it, though. Lying’s just not something I’m good at.”  
“Still, I’d say that’s one of your best qualities.” Bucky said.  
“Well, thank you for that. I think.”  
“How’d she like this place?”  
“Who?”  
“Agent Carter.”  
Steve shook his head, “Peggy’s never been here.”  
“She hasn’t?” Bucky questioned.  
“No.”  
“You never brought her here? Not even once?”  
“No.” Steve said again. “I never brought anyone here. I mean, except for you. I wanted to keep this to myself.”  
“Then why’d you bring _me_ here?”  
“I told you,” Steve said, “I thought you could use a place to come back to.”

Bucky looked down, hoping Steve didn’t see the red that touched his face. That Steve had put so much thought into him would never cease to amaze him. It touched him so deeply he almost felt uncomfortable over it. No one, not even Thomas, had ever treated him the way Steve did. He didn’t really know how to handle it.

He peaked up at Steve, “You’re too sweet, Stevie.”  
“ _Stevie_?” Now it was Steve looking away to hide his red face. “Did you just call me _Stevie_?”  
Bucky licked his lips and grinned, “Does that make you uncomfortable, Stevie?”  
Steve cleared his throat, looking back at Bucky despite his blush, “No, no, of course not. Not at all.”  
“Are you sure about that, Stevie?’  
Rubbing his face, Steve groaned but tried to cover it with a laugh, “Yes, I …I’m sure. I am completely sure.”  
“Still a terrible liar. I don’t think I’ve ever really seen this side of you, Stevie. All embarrassed and blushing. I think I like it.”  
“Well that’s …I …” Steve laughed again, “Okay, okay, you got me. You win”  
“Isn’t this a nice change of pace? Don’t you think, Stevie?”  
“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed. “Please!”  
Bucky laughed, “What, you’re not having fun?”  
Steve smiled at him, “Well if my humiliation is making you happy, then I guess it could be worse.”  
“It _is_ making me happy.” Bucky admitted.  
Steve took Bucky’s hand from the table and kissed his fingers, “Good.”

Still grinning, Bucky continued to tease Steve. He was used to being the one making people blush, not the other way around. Still, he wouldn’t change the way things were with Steve for anything in the world. Everything about Steve made Bucky happy, even when that happiness made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t a bad uncomfortable anyway.

It was late when they left the restaurant. The streets were quiet, only a few other people outside in the cold night air. Some of the streets seemed relatively untouched, while others had taken severe damage from the Hydra’s attacks. Even so, the people carried on, determined to live their lives in spite of the threat. Bucky wondered what would happen if— _when_ , he reminded himself—the Hydra succeeded. How would these people react? What would become of them? He had seen towns and small cities under the Hydra’s control, and it wasn’t something he liked to think about. He didn’t really want to imagine what the entire world would be like.

“Are you okay, Bucky?” Steve asked as they approached the hotel they were staying in at Howard’s insistence. “You’re very quiet all of a sudden.”  
Bucky smiled at him, stepping into their room, “It’s nothing. Just daydreaming.”  
Steve nodded, “Do you wanna shower first?”  
“I’d rather you join me.” Bucky said, giving Steve a wink and walking to the bathroom.

He didn’t bother listening for a reply, knowing he wouldn’t shower with him. He couldn’t get Steve to have sex with him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve insisted he wanted it to be right, but Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that. He supposed it had something to do with Steve’s belief that Bucky used it to avoid his own feelings. Bucky didn’t quite think that was true; he just preferred to lose himself in the throws of passion than to deal with the ever-growing storm that plagued him. 

Bucky tried not to think about it as he showered, letting the water calm his mind. Whatever Steve’s reasoning for not sleeping with him, it made no difference. His job was to stay close to him and gather information, something he could do whether he slept with him or not. Bucky wanting Steve wasn’t important. Bucky’s feelings for Steve weren’t important. Only his mission mattered. Whether he liked it or not.

When Bucky returned to the bedroom he dropped down onto the bed without bothering to get dressed while Steve went to shower. He wondered if Steve was frustrated at all, or if his Super Soldier body somehow had less need than a normal human. Then again, Bucky was anything but a normal human anyway. With a groan he sat up and walked to the window, looking out at the city. It was filled with so many people who lived normal lives, unaffected by the things that cursed his very existence. How he envied them.

As he turned away from the window he bumped into the nightstand, knocking Steve’s notebook off of it. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but as he picked it up off the floor he caught sight of the drawing on one of the pages; it was of him. It wasn’t the most spectacular drawing he’d ever seen—just a picture of him sitting by a campfire—but he was amazed by it all the same.

He flipped the page, not sure whether he was more relieved or disappointed when the drawing he saw was one of a bird perched neatly on a tree branch. The page after was a slumbering dog. Bucky’s heart leapt when—despite the nagging voice in his head telling him to put the book down—he turned the page again and came to another picture of himself. This one had him at breakfast, his elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand, looking slightly away. The next drawing was Bucky as well, cleaning his rifle. After that a picture of Bucky talking to the rest of the team, all looking as though they were laughing. Then one of Peggy, one of two children building a snowman, another of Bucky. Another. And another. 

No matter how many pages he flipped through, no matter how many different drawings and sketches there were, there was always another picture of Bucky. He didn’t understand. One or two made sense, but so many? Bucky knew he was handsome, yes, but he couldn’t fathom why Steve would draw him so _frequently_. He turned the page again and a slip of paper fell out of the notebook. He caught it before it could hit the floor, only it wasn’t paper; it was an unused napkin. On it was yet another picture of Bucky. A shudder ran through Bucky as he realized it was what he’d drawn the first time Steve had brought him to the restaurant.

“Bucky?”  
He jumped, slamming the notebook shut and turning around, “I’m sorry! I, I didn’t mean to look, I swear!”  
Offering an uncomfortable smile, Steve approached him and gently took the book from his hands, “Ah, that’s uh …that’s alright, Buck.”  
“You’re not mad?”  
Steve laughed nervously, “Mad? No. A little embarrassed, but not mad. I um, I never really …intended for you to see all of those …”  
“There’re so many …” He wasn’t sure why he said it; he didn’t want to question Steve and risk upsetting him.  
“Yeah …” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I just …you …I like drawing you, Bucky. It’s just, I mean, you’re beautiful always but …oh boy. When you uh, when you’re not really …paying attention to everything around you, you look different.”  
“Different?”  
“Relaxed. Um, softer. That is, normally you’re uh, tense? Not, not _tense_ but it’s like you’re always worried …about something. As if you can’t quite get your mind off of things. And you always look like you’re …waiting, for, I don’t know what. Everything to fall apart, maybe. But there are times when, when that kind of fades out. Whenever you’re really focused on something or not focusing on anything at all. Those’re the times when you look like you’re at peace with yourself. And it’s like …like I’m getting a little glimpse at the real you. The person underneath all that charm and sass and behind those walls. You don’t let that person out very much so I …I like to try and hold onto those moments. The moments when you’re actually you.”  
“Steve …”  
“I know, I know,” Steve said quickly, “it’s silly. I’m …I’m ridiculous, I—”  
“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Bucky whispered, cutting him off. “Even when I think I get an edge, I can’t win.”  
“What d’you—”  
“You just can’t help it, can you? You just …you just do it. Damn it, Steve, do you have any idea what you do to me?”  
Steve opened his mouth as though he was going answer but said nothing.  
“You scare me. I am so … _afraid_ of you, Steve. I never, ever know what to think when it comes to you. You just _defy_ all logic. I’ve spent years keeping people out and yet you walk right in …and I just …let you.” Bucky dropped his head against Steve’s chest, “I let you in because even though you scare me I …I’ve never felt better than when I’m with you. You …you make me feel _safe_ …”  
Taking hold of his face gently, Steve tilted Bucky’s head up, silently encouraging him to continue.  
“I hate it.” He sighed. “I _hate_ what you do to me. All the things you make me feel. It’s not supposed to be this way. I’m not supposed to want to trust you with _everything_ and let you see me and …and I’m definitely not supposed to want you to just …just be here …with me …” His entire body was shaking. Bucky didn’t know how he was even still standing. “You make me feel so weak and so strong and so scared and so safe all at once. And I know this can’t go on forever but I just want to close my eyes and pretend that it will because I can’t imagine anything worse than a life without you.”  
“You don’t have to pretend, Bucky.” Steve assured him. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”  
“That’s the problem, Steve. You _shouldn’t_.”  
“I don’t care if I shouldn’t. I do. I love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”  
“This isn’t fair. I can’t take this. Not another second of it. It’s too much. I can’t do it.”  
Defeat began to creep into Steve’s eyes, “Do you want to leave, Bucky?”  
“No.” He breathed. “That’s just it, I don’t. Not ever. I’m just so afraid, all the time. I don’t know what to do …”  
“You don’t have to do anything.”  
“Yes I do. I have to do _something_ or I might …I might …damn it!”

Bucky pushed Steve away and walked to the bed. He sat at the edge and covered his face with his hands. What was he doing? What was _wrong_ with him? He had just finished reminding himself that his own thoughts, his own feelings weren’t important. He had to stay focused on his mission. He had to stop falling apart like this. It was just going to make things harder. As if they weren’t already hard enough.

“The last thing I ever wanted was to make you unhappy.” Steve said softly, sitting beside him.  
Bucky sighed, not looking up at him, “I know that, Steve. I know you’re not doing any of this to me on purpose. I’m just kind of an idiot.”  
“You’re not an idiot, Bucky.” Steve replied, rubbing Bucky’s shoulders gently. “You’re just not used to this. It’s not your fault you don’t know how to handle it.”  
Bucky peaked up at him, “There you go again. Always so _understanding_.”  
“Would you rather me be mean about it?”  
“Well I’m used to _that_.” Bucky said. “It’d be easier to deal with than this.”  
“That’s just it, Buck,” Steve said, “you shouldn’t _have_ to deal with that. You shouldn’t _be_ used to it.”  
“But I _am_. Whether I should be or not.”  
“I know. That’s what I’m hoping to change.”  
“How?” Bucky asked, lifting his head all the way now.  
“Any way you’ll let me.” Steve replied.  
Bucky laid his head against Steve’s shoulder, “You don’t give up, do you?”  
Steve kissed the top of his head, “Nope.”

Unsure how to respond, Bucky sighed again and closed his eyes. He was sure he would never understand what went through Steve’s head. How he could possibly care so much about him. And realizing that Steve meant it—that he really truly meant it—terrified him. He didn’t know what to do about it. He’d already let Steve see more of him than he ever should have, and yet Steve continued to actually love him. Made him want to open himself even more. It was all too intense for Bucky to handle it. And none of it made his mission any easier.

“For what’s it’s worth, you scare me too.” Steve said suddenly.  
“What?”  
“You scare me too.” Steve repeated. “I never know what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling. I just want to make you happy, but I’m never sure how to do that. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to.”  
Bucky picked his head up, “Steve, that’s exactly what scares me about you. I don’t understand why you put so much … _effort_ into me. It’s …terrifying.”  
“It’s not supposed to be.” Steve said. “That’s what you should be used to, Bucky. Not people treating you badly.”  
“That doesn’t make this any less terrifying.”  
“It won’t be, once you get used it. I promise, Bucky, you won’t be scared anymore if you just let me take care of you.”  
“Thomas used to promise he’d take care of me.” Bucky whispered. “His idea of that was telling me …what to do and …what not to do …where to go and how to be …” Somehow, the more time he spent with Steve the more Bucky found himself resenting Thomas. He’d never realized before just how cold Thomas had been, even before he left Bucky.  
“Well,” Steve replied, “one thing I can assure you is that that is not my idea of taking care of you.”  
“Then what is?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Steve didn’t respond with words. Instead, he took hold of Bucky’s face and kissed him. It was soft and tender but there was something behind it Bucky didn’t quite recognize. Something fiery. Something he wanted more of. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him closer. Steve’s hands slid to Bucky’s shoulders, his chest, his waist; he pulled Bucky into his lap and moved his attention from Bucky’s lips to the rest of his face. A shudder ran through Bucky as Steve kissed his neck, as his hands explored his flesh. His own fingers ran down Steve’s back, trying to touch every inch of him.

Their lips met again and a gasp caught in Bucky’s throat as Steve grasped his cock. Bucky moaned as Steve worked him, his mouth returning to Bucky’s neck. His free hand continued to roam, fingers dancing along his skin. When they came to the scar on his hip—the remains of a bullet wound he’d gotten years earlier—Steve paused to look at him. 

“Is this okay?” He asked softly. “Do you want to do this?”  
“Yes,” Bucky breathed, “yes I want to. I want to, Steve.”

Steve kissed him again, moving them so Bucky was laying flat on his back on the bed. Bucky reached out for him as Steve continued to stroke him. It was going too slow. He wanted more. He wanted Steve to take him. 

“Steve,” He whined, “hurry …”  
Steve kissed his stomach, “Do you want this, Bucky?”  
“Yes.” Bucky huffed. “Yes, yes, I want this!”  
“Are you _sure_ you want this?” Steve asked, kissing his stiff cock.  
Bucky groaned, “ _Yes_.”

He moaned as Steve took his erection into his mouth, his hand tightening around him. A single, slick finger teased his hole. When the hell had Steve lubricated his hand? Bucky didn’t really care. He tried to move his hips but Steve’s other hand, still wrapped tight around his cock, held him in place.

“Steve, _please_.” He whimpered. “Please _hurry_.”

Not taking his mouth off of him, Steve said something Bucky couldn’t understand and slid another finger into him. Bucky threaded his fingers through Steve’s hair as though it would get him to move faster. It was nothing like what he was used to; Steve was gentle and caring as he stretched him. There was no urgency in it. Steve only seemed focused on Bucky.

He grunted loudly in protest when Steve’s mouth and hands left him. Steve kissed him again in response and gently took hold of his hips before carefully entering him. Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist and grabbed hold of his shoulders, letting out a sound he’d never heard from himself before.

“Is this still okay?” Steve asked, kissing the side of his face softly.  
“Damn it, Steve, hurry the fuck up!” Bucky cried, a trail of saliva dribbling down his chin.  
Kissing his face again Steve sighed, “Just checking.”

Bucky had never felt anything so incredible in his life than when Steve finally began to move. Steve was perfect, hitting exactly the right spot with every thrust. One of Steve’s hands returned to Bucky’s cock, the other wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him up, their lips connecting. Bucky had always believed that what he’d done with Thomas was making love. It didn’t even compare to him and Steve.

They were quiet for a long while once it was over. Bucky stared up at the ceiling, Steve still on top of him; Bucky clung to his shoulders, refusing to let him move except to turn off the lamp beside the bed. Steve asked him at least a thousand times if he was alright, kept whispering that he loved him, and Bucky could only nod and kiss him in response. He couldn’t speak a word. There were tears sliding down his face, but he stayed silent. In the darkness, even Steve didn’t notice them. It wasn’t until Bucky was certain Steve was asleep that he dared to utter a sound.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

Somewhere in the midst of dreaming, Steve heard him.

 

1987

_James sits stiffly in the exam chair as Dr. Zola studies him. He doesn’t like being in this room. It’s small and full of machines that he knows nothing about, yet they turn his stomach to rot all the same. He has to remove his clothes for the exam, and there’s always at least one security guard there with them. The man standing guard today is one he’s never seen before; he stares at James like he’s some piece on display in a museum. It all makes him feel completely vulnerable, and not in the way he likes. He focuses his attention on the wall in front of him, trying not to shake._

_“And what were you doing when the headache set in?” Dr. Zola questions. He hates the smug sound of his voice._  
_“I don’t remember.” James says quietly._  
_“What were you thinking about?”_  
_“I don’t remember.”_  
_“What happened immediately beforehand?”_  
_“I don’t remember.”_  
_“How long did it last?”_  
_“I don’t remember.”_

 _He hates the questioning. It takes forever. He never knows any of the answers, anyway. Everything surrounding the headache is a blank. He can’t remember what he’d been doing, what he’d been planning to do, what he’d been thinking about. Dr. Zola continues questioning him, examining him, but James has just one answer to give him. He can only assume he’d been in the shower shortly before, naked and wet as he was. Something must have been bothering him, though; his magazines were thrown about the place._

_Magazines. There was something about the magazines. Something he’d been looking for. No. Not something, some_ one _. He was looking for someone in the magazines. Who? He can’t remember, but he knows it was important. Whoever he was looking for, they’re important. Someone famous? Was he researching for his next assignment? He doesn’t know but it’s already gnawing at his mind._

_“Your health is fine, but I am going to raise your dosage. I recommend you start taking your medication at least twice a day, whether a headache surfaces or not. And if that doesn’t—”_  
_“I was looking for someone!” James sits up as he speaks, cutting Dr. Zola off. It could get him into trouble, interrupting him like that, but he can’t help himself. “I was looking through my magazines for someone.”_  
_Dr. Zola eyes him cautiously, “Who?”_  
_He shakes his head, “I …I don’t know. Someone …”_  
_“You don’t know who it was, James?”_  
_“No. Just …it was someone important, I think. I …someone I used to know, maybe? That …I think that’s it, I think he’s someone I knew once.”_  
_“He?”_  
_James nods slowly, “Yeah …yes, Doctor. He. I’m …almost positive it was a man.”_  
_Dr. Zola’s face becomes hard, “I see.”_  
_“Is that …bad?”_  
_“Sit back.” Doctor Zola orders, placing his hand on James’s chest._

_James has more than enough strength to resist. In fact, Dr. Zola is by no means a threat to him. He doubts the guard by the door is either. Still, he does as he’s ordered; he doesn’t want to face what his boss will do to him if he doesn’t. At Dr. Zola’s command he leans his head back and closes his eyes._

_Dr. Zola rests his hand on James’s forehead, “Time to rest, Sleeping Beauty.”_

 

…

_He sits up and opens his eyes. His caretaker is standing in front of him. By the door is a solider. He looks toward his caretaker, making certain not to make eye contact with him. Not unless he is told._

_His caretaker looks at him, “Who are you?”_  
_“The Asset.” He answers._  
_“What are your orders?” His caretaker questions._  
_“Awaiting orders.” He says._  
_His caretaker nods, “Good.”_  
_“What just happened?” The solider by the door asks._  
_“A trigger command.” Says his caretaker. He walks away from him, digs through a drawer nearby. “This particular subject is …unique. Most of the time he is kept frozen in storage. He is let out only for short intervals to work.”_  
_“I don’t understand.” The soldier states._  
_“Of course you don’t.” Says his caretaker. He returns to him with a bite guard; he opens his mouth and let’s his caretaker put it in. “This process began long before you were even born.”_  
_“So then …” The soldier doesn’t finish his sentence._  
_His caretaker pushes down on his chest and he leans back like he knows he wants him to, “He is removed from storage and wiped, then given a set of false memories. Just enough to ensure he does not question his own existence. It is simple; he works, he plays. Lives a life that consists of drugs and alcohol and sex. He is, you see, quite_ charming _, and so frequently called in to help sway certain individuals into joining our noble cause.” His caretaker presses a button on the control panel beside the chair and the metal restrains close around his arms. “When the time is right, he is then …activated.”_  
_“Activated?”_  
_“A simple code phrase is uttered and he returns to the state you see before you. In this mindset, he has neither independent thought nor free will. He obeys orders, nothing more. And he is the deadliest creature in our great master’s service. He kills like a ghost; silent, swift, unseen. The world knows nothing of him, yet he has killed countless high profile individuals. He is, for lack of a better word, murder personified.”_  
_“Then …why not just keep him out all the time?”_  
_“It is easier to maintain him this way. The longer he is out of cryofreeze, the more the memories of his old life begin to resurface. The pills block his memories, but eventually they grow stronger and he will begin to fight his programming. When that happens, his mind must be manually wiped and he is returned to storage.”_  
_“Then why bother with the fake memories at all? Why not just keep him in storage all the time?”_  
_His caretaker laughs, “Punishment. You see, many years ago he dared to attempt a betrayal. This is all a part of the consequences he must face.” His caretaker presses another button; he can see the machine over his head lowering, coming closer. “In just a moment the wipe will begin. For a brief instant, all of his memories will surface. His old life, his current life. He will know exactly who he is and what he’s done. Just long enough for the horror to awaken and to realize there is nothing he can do about any of it. And then he will be a blank slate once more. It’s rather …breathtaking …”_

_He doesn’t quite understand what his caretaker is saying. He knows the words and what they mean, but he still doesn’t understand it. Is he talking about him? He doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. He just knows that he’s about to hurt. The machine fits itself over his face. He whimpers._

_His parents. Thomas. The woods. Hunting. Knives. An army. War. Thomas. Sickness. Thomas. Thomas. The Hydra._

_Knife at his throat. He can’t die. Rope around his neck. He can’t die. A bottle of poison. He still can’t die._

_Missions. Rum. Missions. Strangers. People. Blood. Rum._

_Missions. Missions. Missions. He cannot die._

_Rum. Missions. Cannot die. Rum. Missions. Rum._

_He cannot die._

_Mission._

_Steve. Mission. Steve._

_Steve. The Howling Commandos. Steve. Peggy. Howard. Steve. Mission. Steve._

_Steve. Steve. Steve._

 

_Bucky screams._


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just fluff and sex here.  
> Please comment if you enjoyed!

1943

Steve looked out the window of their hotel room as the sun rose. It was a quiet, peaceful morning with few people out on the streets. The world seemed calm, as though there wasn’t a war going on out there. As though people weren’t suffering, dying. Steve knew better than that, of course. No matter how calm everything seemed, he could never be truly at ease until the Hydra was gone for good. Until there weren’t people living in fear of it, looking over their shoulders and waiting for it to make its next move. Until there were no longer people living in squander, struggling every day to survive while others lived lush, luxurious lives. Until the world was a better place, Steve would never really be okay.

He glanced behind him where Bucky was still sleeping. He looked more peaceful than Steve had ever seen him before. It was the first time since they’d begun sharing a bed he hadn’t been fitful and tense in his sleep. No matter how deeply Bucky slept, it always appeared as though he wasn’t able to completely relax. Not that that was surprising, after all he’d been through.

A few drops of water hit the window as it began to rain, bringing a faint smile to Steve’s face. His mind drifted back to what Bucky had told him about water and how it made him feel at ease. How it soothed him. He cracked the window open, letting the sound and smell of the rain fill the room. He watched it fall gently, slowly but surely picking up. It _was_ soothing. He hoped it would still be soothing to Bucky.

Part of Steve still couldn’t believe he and Bucky had finally made love. He’d been wanting to since the moment they met, but the time was just never right. Holding himself back had been nearly impossible, especially with how charming and seductive Bucky was. But Steve knew that Bucky had been using sex as a means to guard himself for years, and he didn’t want that between them. He wanted Bucky to know just how much Steve cared for him, how he would do anything for him. That he would never, ever hurt him. 

Though he couldn’t be fully sure, Steve suspected that he had been able to convey some of that the night before. He hadn’t been completely certain that it was a good idea, but once it began he knew. Bucky had dropped his guard almost completely, had actually accepted his affection in a way he hadn’t the few times he’d attempted to initiate anything between them in the past. He seemed to really understand the depths of Steve’s feelings for him. And though he may have been dreaming, Steve was almost positive that at some point in the night he’d heard Bucky tell him he loved him.

Steve turned around as he heard Bucky stir, “Good morning.”  
Bucky rubbed at his face and looked up at him, “Hi.”  
“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked, moving to sit at the edge of the bed.  
“Pretty good, actually.” Bucky said, pressing his face into his pillow in a vain attempt to hide his smile.  
“You’re not hurt, right?”  
“Not at all.”  
Steve smiled and leaned down to kiss the side of his face, “Good.”  
“What time is it?” Bucky asked with a yawn.  
“Still early.” Steve replied. “Sun’s barely up. We’ve got plenty of time before we need to be anywhere.”  
“Good.” Bucky groaned, stretching slightly and pulling the blanket over his face. “I’m going back to sleep then.”  
“Hey!” Steve laughed. “You can’t do that!”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I don’t want you to.” Steve said.  
Bucky peeked out from under the blanket, “But I’m tired.”  
“You don’t have to get up,” Steve replied, “just don’t go back to sleep.”  
“But I’m _tired_.” Bucky whined.  
Steve poked his ribs, “Stay awake and talk to me.”  
Bucky pouted, “Fine.”  
“Thank you. Is that so hard?’  
“Yes.”  
Steve poked him again, “Don’t be mean!”  
“Who’s mean? You’re the one making me stay awake and talk to you. So talk.”  
Laying down next to him, Steve touched Bucky’s face lightly, “Have I told you that you look particularly beautiful in the morning?”  
“You have now.” Bucky said, a faint blush touching his cheeks.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asked.  
“I’m fine, Steve. I don’t think I’ve ever been better, actually. Thank you.”  
Steve’s smile widened, “You don’t have to thank me, Bucky. You don’t ever have to thank me.”  
“No, but I do. I have to thank you. No one’s ever done for me what you have, Steve. I can’t ever repay you for it.”  
“I’m not doing anything for you to repay me for, Buck. I want you to be happy, that’s all.” Steve said, tucking a strand of hair away from Bucky’s face. “I love you.”  
Bucky took hold of Steve’s hand and kissed his fingers, “I know. I know, Steve. You …you’ve made that undeniably clear.”  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
Bucky shook his head, “No. It’s not a bad thing. I just didn’t expect it. It’s been a long time since I believed that anyone …well, you know …”  
“Yeah,” Steve nodded, “I know.”  
“You don’t, though.” Bucky said. “You don’t know the half of it, Steve.”  
“Buck?”  
“There’s …there’s so much I want to tell you, Steve. So, _so_ much.”  
“So tell me.”  
Bucky shook his head, “I can’t, Steve. I can’t tell you. I want to, but I just _can’t_.”  
“Of course you can, Bucky. You can tell me anything.”  
Sitting up, Bucky sighed, “No, I can’t. There are things I can’t tell you or anyone. Ever. No matter how much I wish I could.”  
Steve sat up as well and rubbed Bucky’s back gently, “You _can_ tell me, though. You don’t have to, but you can. I’ll always listen, Bucky. Always.”  
Bucky leaned against Steve and kissed his chin, “Thank you, Steve. You don’t know how much that means to me.”  
Steve wrapped his arm around him, “You still don’t have to thank me, Bucky.”  
“At least let me demonstrate my gratitude.” Bucky said, hand sliding up Steve’s thigh. “Unless you don’t want to.”  
“Well, if it’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”  
Bucky wrapped his fingers around Steve’s cock and whispered into his ear, “Then don’t move.”

Bucky climbed onto Steve, straddling his lap and kissing his neck. One hand lazily stroked Steve while the other reached out for the tube of lubricant Steve had left on the bedside table the night before. Steve couldn’t breathe as he watched Bucky slide his slick fingers into himself, desire dripping off of him. He wanted to reach out for him, but he did as Bucky asked and remained still. Fortunately, Bucky didn’t waste any time and lowered himself onto Steve’s erection, a soft moan rising out of him as he did.

For an endless moment, Steve stared up at Bucky, who didn’t move at all. He didn’t seem to notice the tears spilling down his face or the low whine escaping his lips. Without warning, Bucky suddenly began to move, pulling a loud moan from Steve. It was a struggle not to grab him, yank him closer and kiss him like he so badly wanted to. Steve gripped the sheets, forcing himself to stay still as Bucky rode him. He made no attempt to restrain his voice, though, nor did Bucky. Neither cared whether or not anyone could hear them. Nothing mattered except each other.

“Do you wanna shower?” Steve asked after, running his fingers lightly down Bucky’s arm.  
Bucky hummed, head resting on Steve’s chest, “Can we go together?”  
Steve laughed, “Yes, we can shower together.”  
“Then yes, I would like to take a shower.” Bucky said, lifting his head just slightly and planning a kiss on Steve’s chin.  
Steve kissed his lips in return, “Let’s go, then.” He scooped Bucky into his arms and carried him bridal style—earning a giggle from Bucky—to the shower. With his superior strength, it was easy for Steve to hold Bucky in one arm and turn on the water with his free hand.  
“Show off.” Bucky snickered as the warm water washed over them.  
“What, you gonna tell me you don’t like being carried around?” Steve teased, setting Bucky down on his feet.  
“ _Hey_ ,” Bucky whined, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, “I didn’t say to put me _down_!”  
Steve chuckled and looped his arm around Bucky, lifting him up again, “I’m sorry, is this better?”  
Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, “The bees knees.”  
“Good.” Steve laughed softly, “Wouldn’t want my Bucky to be unhappy.”  
“That’s right,” Bucky replied with a pout, “my Stevie needs to keep his Bucky happy.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” Steve said before kissing him.

He didn’t mean to go any further, but once their lips met the flame inside him reignited. As their tongues danced, their bodies soaked from the shower, he could feel the blood rush down between his legs. Steve wanted, needed, Bucky right then. Based on Bucky’s fervent response, the feeling was mutual. 

“Steve,” He breathed, eyes full of longing, “I need you. I need you _now_.”  
“I know,” Steve moaned, “I know, Bucky, I know. I need you too.”  
Bucky squirmed in his arms, his body trembling, “Then hurry.”  
“Yeah …” Steve pressed Bucky against the wall and slid into him. Bucky shuddered, clinging tighter to him, fingernails digging into his skin. This time Steve didn’t hold back.

Bucky was limp in Steve’s arms when they finished. Steve held him close and washed him down, scrubbing his body gently. He whispered softly into his ear, little nothings of affection. Once they were both clean, he carried Bucky back into the room and laid him down on the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, running his fingers through Bucky’s wet hair.  
“Yeah …” Bucky breathed, fully content. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”  
Steve kissed his forehead, “I love you, Bucky. I love you so much.”  
Bucky rested his hand on Steve’s face, still panting hard, “I know you do, Steve. I know. I …I …”  
“It’s okay, Buck.” Steve whispered. “You don’t have to say it. It’s alright.”  
“You know, though, don’t you?” Bucky gasped, voice desperate, “I do. You know that, right?”  
Steve smiled and nodded weakly, “Yeah, I know.”


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, life's been kind of a hassle lately. Nothing particular to warn about ahead, save for a brief fear of being buried alive.  
> Let me know watcha think! :)

1944

There was a crisp chill in the air as fall began to give way to winter. It was early in the morning, the sun barely up. Bucky wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and be warm, but there was too much work to be done. The team was preparing to investigate a mine outside a town they’d driven the Hydra’s forces out of, where the citizens reported having seen several high ranking Hydra servants meet during the night. Until then, they said, the mine had been abandoned for decades.

Bucky had several ideas as to what could have been stored within those mines. A temple, where the Hydra could rest safely and secretly when It needed to use Its mysterious artifact to recover Its powers after overuse. A library, filled with information on the servants and that which the Hydra had already accomplished. A prison for those particularly dangerous to the Hydra, but who showed potential for future use. The possibilities were endless. The Hydra had created countless underground chambers that could be utilized at any time over the centuries It had lived. There was no telling what this one would be.

“Alright,” Steve said as soon as they were ready, “we’ve got no way to know what’s down there, so stick to your group and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”  
Jones snickered, “Yeah, that’s your job, Cap.”  
Steve grinned at him, “That’s right, it is. Now, you all know what you’re supposed to be doing. Let’s move.”

They split into three groups; Jones, Dugan, and Dernier down one tunnel, Falsworth and Morita down the second, and Bucky and Steve in the last. Bucky was fairly sure there would be nothing left inside for them to find. The Hydra soldiers had likely cleared it all away and destroyed most of the place before their defeat. It wasn’t like them, after all, to leave something important behind. Even so, he tried to fake focus, his gun ready as they made way through the tunnel.

“Something on your mind, Buck?” Steve asked after a while.  
Bucky smirked and shook his head, “That obvious?”  
Steve shrugged, “I guess I just know you really well. So what is it?”  
“I don’t think we’re going to accomplish anything here.” Bucky replied. “I can’t imagine they wouldn’t have gotten rid of everything as soon as we showed up.”  
Steve nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Still we can’t just ignore it. Any scrap of information we can get might make the difference.”  
“I know.” Bucky said. “I just don’t want us to be delayed by something that might be nothing when we could be out doing something else.”  
“We can’t take the chance, though. Not when it might still be _something_.”

Bucky sighed but said nothing else. He knew he wouldn’t be able to convince Steve they were more than likely wasting their time without his contract being brought up and the curse keeping the information inside of him. Again. In the several months since he’d finally accepted his feelings for Steve, Bucky had made a number of attempts to reveal his secrets to him. They had all been futile, of course, but Bucky was still determined to find a way. He didn’t care what the penalty would be; he needed to tell Steve the truth. To help him defeat the Hydra in any way he could.

He knew Steve would probably hate him when he finally found out, but he had to do it anyway. As much as the thought pained him, Bucky preferred the idea of Steve living long enough to hate him and defeating the Hydra, than dying and never reaching his goal of protecting the world while still loving him. It wasn’t as though Bucky particularly deserved Steve’s love, anyway. Not with all the terrible things he’d done and how he’d deceived him.

The most Bucky could really hope for was that the discovery wouldn’t affect Steve the way Thomas’s betrayal had affected Bucky. There was no doubt in his mind it would shake him, finding out the person he trusted so deeply was working for his enemy. He couldn’t stand the idea of Steve closing himself off and refusing to trust as Bucky had. Living the shell of a life Bucky had. He hoped with all his being that Steve was that much stronger than he had been. That Peggy and the Commandos and Stark would be able to help him through it when the time came. He hoped Steve would find love again with someone else.

“There’s something ahead.” Steve said.  
To Bucky’s surprise, there was a faint light ahead of them, “I see it.”  
“Stay behind me.” Steve ordered, his shield ready.

Bucky nodded, following a step behind him. He didn’t understand why anything would still be there, though. Had they really caught the Hydra’s soldiers by such surprise that they didn’t have a chance to bury the place? It didn’t make any sense. Eliminating them was the very first thing they were supposed to do if their control was threatened. Captain America and the Howling Commandos showing up was automatically deemed a threat.

They moved cautiously until they reached a large circular chamber. In the center was an enormous skull carved from stone, with eight tentacles coming out the bottom of it; the seal of the Hydra. The tentacles extended out to the walls, then pointed upward, each holding a large torch. There was nothing else to be found.

“What is this place?” Steve wondered aloud, stepping carefully into the chamber.  
“I’m not sure.” Bucky lied, still a step behind him. The room was an entryway to another chamber, one that was likely extremely vital. “Probably some …secret meeting place.”  
“I doubt that.” Steve replied. “Something tells me there’s more to it than that. I can’t imagine they’d put so much work into something so …mundane.”  
“No, I guess not.” 

He watched Steve examine the skull and wondered whether he’d figure out the trick or not. All he had to do was reach into its left eye and find the switch that would open part of the wall and allow them to continue. If he couldn’t figure it out, Bucky would have to open it himself and make it appear as though it was a lucky find.

Unsurprisingly though, Steve found it without much difficulty, revealing a hidden stairway, “Well, look at that.”  
Bucky grinned at him, “Those clever Hydra people. Not as clever as my man, though.”  
Steve laughed, “C’mon, Buck, let’s go.”  
“Right behind you, Captain.”

They moved down the stairs and into another huge chamber. This one was lined with stone bookshelves and had countless serpents carved into the walls. In the center of the room was another statute of the Hydra’s seal, this one much smaller but still taking up a good portion of the space. Each tentacle appeared to be holding up a stone table.

“Is this …some kind of library?” Steve questioned.  
“Yeah it, it looks like it.” Bucky replied, his heart pounding. A library hidden so deeply undoubtedly had sensitive information, possibly even on him.  
“Think there’s anything useful here?” Steve asked, looking around at all the books. “Maybe some of the Hydra’s secrets …information on its servants.”  
“It …it might. Maybe some …names or …descriptions …”  
“If we could get that we could turn things around.” Steve said. “It wouldn’t be able to send its …lackeys to infiltrate us. They wouldn’t be able to sneak around like rats anymore.”  
“Little harsh, Steve.” Bucky said before he could stop himself. “Not exactly the ‘they’re people too’ speech you’re always giving.”  
“I know, I know. It’s not my place to judge them like that. I just …” Steve sighed, “It’s frustrating, sometimes. Just … _why_?”  
“What …what d’you mean?” Bucky asked, afraid of the answer. In the near year since they’d met, they rarely discussed those who served the Hydra.  
“Why would anyone sell their soul away like that?” Steve explained. “How could someone just _do_ that? Everyone knows what the Hydra does, what it wants for the world. What could it possibly promise someone that’s worth that?”  
“I don’t think it’s always about gaining something.” Bucky turned to look at the shelves, trying not to shrink into himself. “Some people …sometimes you’re just so …desperate …”  
“Desperate enough to sell out the whole world?” Steve questioned.  
“If …if It had enough leverage …”  
Steve shook his head, “I’m sure some people really thought it was for the best—and I feel sorry for them—but I just can’t imagine anything being worth that.”  
“The Hydra can, though.” Bucky whispered.  
“Bucky?” Steve softened his voice. “Are you okay?”  
“I knew someone once who …” His voice cracked and he couldn’t bring himself to even tell such a lie. Bucky turned around and forced a smile, “We should get the rest of the team before we check this place out. You could probably make better time alone, though, so I, I’ll stay here. Keep watch.”  
“We shouldn’t separate.” Steve replied, clearly accepting that Bucky didn’t want to discuss the matter of Hydra servants any further. “We’ll go together.”  
Bucky shook his head, “It’s better if I stay. If there’s anyone still lurking around they might have a chance to destroy some of those books.”  
Steve looked at Bucky carefully, trying to decide whether to let it be or to push. After a few minutes, he nodded, “Alright. Stay right in here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  
“I’ll be okay.” Bucky assured him. “But you be careful.”  
“I will.” Steve stepped closer and kissed the corner of his mouth, “I love you.”  
“Same.”

Once Steve was gone Bucky felt the tears rise up. He buried his face in his hands and let out an ugly sob. As much as he told himself he would accept Steve’s resentment when the time came, hearing such words from him was almost too much. Steve was always the one reminding everyone that those who served the Hydra were still people and ought to be treated as such. Knowing that he felt the way he did about them—about _Bucky_ , whether he knew it or not—was more painful than he’d imagined it would be.

Wiping the tears away, Bucky quickly got to work; he had to find his own information and get rid of it before Steve or the others saw it. He plucked a book from the shelf and opened it; sure enough, it was filled with information on Hydra servants. It had their names, ages, physical descriptions, skills, how valued they were, even the circumstances surrounding their contract. Flipping through the pages, Bucky quickly realized the book he was holding had information only on servants with little apparent value. Bucky was a favorite—some even called him _the_ favorite—not some insignificant lackey. His information would never be kept with theirs.

He slammed the book shut and began looking through some of the others. The shelf in front of him seemed to have nothing but the lowest. It wasn’t surprising, though; there were so many of them. Far more low-ranking nobodies than highly valued servants. Bucky hurried to the next shelf, but it too had only the unimportant names. He moved faster, terrified that he wouldn’t make it in time. He wasn’t ready for them to know. It wouldn’t benefit anyone yet.

As he searched, he began to notice the values going up steadily; he was getting closer. If he didn’t find it before Steve and the others arrived, there was a possibility he would never get another opportunity to dispose of it. Panic was beginning to rise up in him. What would he do if didn’t make it? What would he say if they walked in and found him searching frantically through the books? Or worse, what if they caught him in the act of destroying one? He tried to push the thought away and continued his search.

A wave of relief washed over him when he finally found his own name. The first page had only basic information; where he was from, when he was born, his appearance, his most vital skills. The next few pages were far more detailed, filled with nearly everything there was to know about him. 

There was even a description of the Hydra’s original attempt to recruit him, before his life with Thomas. Back when he’d been part of an informal army put together to push the Hydra back. A short war that ended with the Hydra maintaining Its own small nation and agreeing to leave the rest of the world in peace. Of course, It left Its own loophole in that promise as well and resumed Its assault on the world less than a decade later. Bucky and a number of others had been captured and offered a place with It, their skills apparently enough to impress It. But he’d refused It and managed to escape, while the others who had refused weren’t released until the war’s conclusion. He wasn’t particularly shocked to see the Hydra had held on to that information as well.

Bucky didn’t have time to dwell on the past, though. He immediately began tearing his pages out, four in total. He folded them up and stuffed them into his pocket. There would be a chance for him to read them later, maybe even to find a way to use them to reveal himself to Steve. For the moment, though, he needed to make sure no one else saw them. He peeled out the edges of paper that were still stuck inside the book, making certain there were no signs left that it had been tampered with, then put it back in the shelf.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky leaned against the wall and tried to calm himself. His secret was safe for a little while longer. He just needed to figure out what to do with it. Bucky glanced down at the floor, panic rising up again when he spotted a sheet of paper on the floor. He snatched it up immediately, only it wasn’t a page from the book. 

It was a drawing Steve had given him as a gift, the same day Bucky had first tried to admit his feelings to him. Bucky remembered everything about it perfectly. Steve had asked if he could draw him just a few minutes after they made love in the shower. 

_“You want_ another _drawing of me?” Bucky had questioned. “You don’t have enough?”_  
 _“I want a real one of you.” Steve explained. “One that’s a little less …creepy.”_  
 _Bucky smirked at him, “You mean you want one you don’t have to feel guilty about drawing without asking me first.”_  
 _Steve scratched the back of his head, a faint blush touching his cheeks, “Well, yeah …”_  
 _Bucky sat up, feeling more relaxed, “If you insist, Stevie. How do you want me?”_  
 _Steve cleared his throat, “Uh, it …just um, move those pillows up a little, against the headboard.”_  
 _“Like that?” Bucky asked, moving the pillows as Steve instructed._  
 _“Yeah, that ...that’s good. Now, uh, just …just lean back on them. Like that. Yeah, okay.”_  
 _Resting back against the pillows, Bucky licked his lips, “You want me to stay like this, or should I cover up?”_  
 _“If, if you want. I mean, that’s up to you. I don’t mind either way. It’s your call, there. Whatever you want.”_  
 _Bucky laughed, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous, Stevie. I figured a big artist like you would’ve done nudes before.”_  
 _“I have!” Steve exclaimed. “Plenty. Just …not with people I actually …felt anything for. I never_ knew _any of those people. I never loved any of them.”_  
 _It was Bucky’s turn to blush then, “Oh. But this is okay? The …posture?”_  
 _Steve cleared his throat again, “Yeah, it’s fine. Just um, just try to keep still. Relax your face.”_

_Bucky nodded and took a breath to calm himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d been drawn and certainly not the first time he’d been drawn naked, but Steve’s words were true for him too. No one else who’d done it had ever mattered to Bucky like Steve did. In fact, more often than not it had been about sex. With Steve it wasn’t. Steve was drawing Bucky because Steve wanted to draw him. Because Bucky wanted Steve to draw him._

_Though he maintained a cool demeanor, but his heart was pounding every second. He so loved watching Steve draw, and knowing that he was the subject made it that much better. Knowing that Steve’s gaze, so intense and focused, was only on him brought butterflies to his stomach. Feelings he thought he’d never have again. Bucky decided then that he couldn’t go through with his mission. He had to stop it, had to make sure Steve never came to harm. That he succeeded in all his goals and could live a long, happy life. He didn’t know how, but he would do it. One way or another, Bucky was going to betray the Hydra. Consequences be damned._

“Bucky?” Steve pulled him out of his thoughts.  
He jumped, clutching the drawing against his chest, “What?”  
“You okay?” Steve asked.  
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, folding up the drawing and carefully putting it back into his pocket, “I’m fine. Just waiting for you to come back, got a little bored.”  
“You get a look at any of those books?” Dugan questioned.  
Bucky shook his head, “No, no not yet. I figured I should wait for you guys. What about you? Anything down the other tunnels?”  
“Not a thing.” Dernier said.  
“Just a bunch of dead ends.” Morita added. “Probably meant to throw us off.”  
“Well, we found this at least.” Steve said. “We should get to work.”  
“These could take days, maybe weeks to go through.” Jones commented. “Might be better to get these out of here and bring ‘em to Stark. He’s probably got something to make this easier.”  
“Got a point, there.” Dugan agreed. “Besides, the less time we spend in this cave the better.”  
“Alright,” Steve said, “we’ll move in pairs. One person carries the books, the other keeps watch. Dugan, you and Falsworth head out first. Send a few others in, too. More hands oughta make this go faster.”

Bucky watched the pair leave and hoped no one suspected anything. Leaning back against the shelf behind him, he glanced around and tried to seem casual. Jones was looking through one of the books while Dernier was pulling them off the shelves and stacking them up on the tables so they could be easily carried out. Steve was talking to Morita about something he couldn’t hear, occasionally casting a glance at him. It seemed Steve was the only one who noticed anything was off. Not that the others had a reason to think anything. But he was still going to have to make up another story to explain his behavior to Steve. His lies had never felt so exhausting before.

“They should be on their way back in by now.” Steve spoke up after some time had passed. “Jones, Dernier, you two head out. You’ll probably meet them halfway, just tell them to keep moving.”  
Jones nodded, “You got it, Cap.”  
“Be careful.” Morita called after them, taking over for Dernier. “Just how many books d’you think are in here?”  
Steve shrugged, “Hard to say. Least a few hundred.”  
Morita nodded, “Going through these really is gonna take a while.”  
“Probably. But it could give us just what we need.” Steve replied, beginning to stack the books as well.  
“It’s more information than we had before.” Bucky said, hoping his voice was relaxed.  
“Yeah, there’s that.” Morita commented.

Bucky only half-listened as they continued the conversation. Even when Falsworth and Dugan returned with a handful of other soldiers, he wasn’t fully paying attention. He began to take the books from the shelves as well, making sure there were several stacks ready each time another group arrived to take them. It felt like an eternity that he was there, pulling books from the shelves and stacking them up, handing them off to be carried out. The relief he felt was tangible when they were finally able to leave.

“You feeling a little better, Bucky?” Steve asked. They were the last two to leave, the other soldiers a few minutes ahead of them.  
Bucky nodded, holding the last stack of books carefully, “Yeah, I guess so.”  
“I’m sorry about before.” Steve said. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”  
“No, it’s alright.” Bucky replied. “You had every right to. You’re always doing so much, everyone forgets you’re as affected by all this as the rest of us. You get angry too, like anyone else.”  
Steve shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said that, though. I shouldn’t take it out on other people, even if they _do_ work for the Hydra.”  
“Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Bucky said, nudging Steve with his shoulder.

For a moment Steve looked as though he was going to respond when he froze suddenly. Bucky didn’t have time to question him before Steve pushed him to the side and moved in front of him, shield raised. There was a flash of blue light, and then Steve was moving again, hurling his shield at their attacker. Bucky dropped the books he was holding and drew his gun just quick enough to shoot the second enemy that arrived as Steve was catching his shield.

Without warning, Bucky felt Steve’s hand take hold of his arm and yank him closer. Steve pulled them both to the ground, holding his shield over them. Bucky clung to him as he realized why; the ceiling was collapsing over their heads. He could hear Steve shouting something to him, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He reached up and pressed his hands over Steve’s, hoping he could help hold it up and keep them from being buried alive. Bucky’s strength was nothing compared to Steve’s, but he had to try. He couldn’t tell how long it lasted, but eventually there was nothing left but the sound of their breathing.

“Bucky,” Steve coughed, “are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.” Bucky panted. “I’m fine. Are …are you?”  
“Yeah.” Steve sounded anything but fine. “Buck, hold onto me, okay?”  
Bucky wrapped his arms around him, “Yeah.”

With a heavy groan, Steve began to push up against the rocks overhead. Bucky held on tighter as they moved, a panicked sense of helplessness washing over him. He could do nothing else but try not to weigh Steve down as he struggled to free them.

“Almost there.” Steve grunted. “Just hold on, Bucky. Just a little longer.”  
“Yeah.”

Bucky never failed to be amazed at how incredible Steve’s will was. He could easily dig himself out if he just left Bucky behind, but he didn’t. The thought probably hadn’t even occurred to Steve.

Within minutes Bucky could see light again. Steve continued to push through the rocks, making a small hole to escape through.

“Go,” He hissed, beginning to feel the strain of the weight he held, “Bucky, _go_!”  
Carefully so as not to cause another cave-in, Bucky clawed his way up and pulled himself out and tumbled to the ground. As he did, he both felt and heard the rocks shifting; looking up, he saw the hole Steve had made collapse into itself almost completely. He rushed back to his feet, “Steve! Are you okay?”  
“I’m alright!” Steve called back. “Just …gonna need a minute …”  
“We, we don’t have a minute!” Bucky exclaimed, climbing up just enough to pull some of the rocks away and widen the hole. “You gotta hurry, Steve, the whole place is gonna come down!”  
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine!” Steve insisted, but he wasn’t moving.  
“Steve, come _on_!” Bucky yelled. He couldn’t tell if the hole was big enough yet for Steve to fit through, but he didn’t have time to think about it. Bucky reached his arm through; he’d pull him out by force if he had to, “Come on, Steve!”  
“Just go, Bucky! Get out of here!”  
 _“No, not without you!”_

Bucky didn’t quite know what to make of Steve’s expression. It was something like resignation and determination and despair and hope all at once. He grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and as the rocks began to fall again, both moved at once. Bucky pulled with all his strength as Steve forced himself forward. They both fell to the ground and everything faded to darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I did not rip off Titanic, btw. I don't know WHAT you are talking about...
> 
> And for anyone who may be wondering, this is the picture Steve drew, minus the jeans, the jewelry and the beer.
> 
>  


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a happy hallmark holiday! lol Enjoy chapter sixteen!

Everything was dark. His body felt too heavy. His head hurt, his bones ached, even breathing was painful. He tried to recall what happened, but nothing would come to his mind. A loud rumbling, the world shaking. Then nothing. Nothing but darkness. With a pained groan, Steve forced his eyes open.

Immediately, he squeezed them shut again; the light was far too much. He took a deep breath and opened them again, slower this time. He tilted his head forward slightly and looked down at himself. He was on his back in a bed, what he could see of his body mostly wrapped in bandages. Carefully, Steve turned his head to the right and found Peggy sitting beside him, dozing just slightly.

“Peggy?” He said weakly.  
She turned to look at him and a smile spread across her face, “Steve. You’re awake.”  
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, “I’m awake. Where …where am I?”  
“You’re in the hospital, Steve.” Peggy replied. “You’ve been asleep for almost twenty hours.”  
“That long? Wait …why? What happened?” Steve asked, his head a mess of memories he couldn’t quite make sense of.  
“The mines.” Peggy explained. “You were attacked by the Hydra’s soldiers. They were waiting for you, as it turns out, and blew the whole place up.”  
The images in his head cleared; the soldiers, the explosion, the cave-in, digging out and trying to get Bucky to safety, Bucky reaching out to him. “Bucky. Where’s Bucky?”  
Peggy leaned closer and placed one hand on Steve’s chest and pointed with the other, “It’s alright, Steve. Bucky’s fine.”  
Turning his head, Steve could see Bucky asleep on his side in the bed next to his. There were bruises on his face, but with the blanket covering him, Steve couldn’t tell if he was injured otherwise, “Is he hurt? What happened, Peggy?”  
“He’s not hurt, not badly anyway. A few scrapes, mostly. He was awake until just a few hours ago. He just needs a little rest and he’ll be himself again. You, on the other hand, gave us quite the scare.”  
“What d’you mean?”  
“You broke nine bones and nearly bled to death.” Peggy said, voice hard. She never did take it lightly when he put himself in danger, as though she took it as a personal offense. “If Barnes hadn’t had such resolve, you’d be dead, Steve. There was no way we could’ve gotten to you in time. He dragged you out of there; I don’t know where he found the strength to carry you after all that, but he did it.”  
Steve looked back at her, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get Bucky out of there.”  
“I know that.” Peggy replied. “And so does he. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite that scared before. Until the doctors told us you’d be fine, he was a complete mess.”  
Closing his eyes, Steve swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “He was?”  
“He was. So were all the rest of us. Luckily you heal faster than anyone else on the planet, so this time tomorrow you’ll be just fine and we’ll be able to put you right back in this bed for scaring us like that.”  
Steve forced a small smile, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”  
Peggy stood up and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “You can count on it. But in the mean time, get some rest. You’ll need it.”  
“Thank you, Peggy.” Steve said, watching her leave the room quietly.

He looked at Bucky again; he was tense, his sleep clearly a restless one. Steve hadn’t seen him that way for some time. There were still bad nights, but they were fading into the past slowly but surely. Steve felt a sharp pain in his chest knowing that this time it was because of him. If he’d moved faster during the cave-in, they might not have gotten caught under the rubble at all.

Steve replayed the incident in his head. The Hydra soldiers had come out of nowhere, appearing almost out of thin air. They’d barely had a chance to defend themselves before Steve noticed the one with the detonator in his hand. He had known immediately that there wasn’t enough time to stop him, so Steve opted instead to cover Bucky and try to keep them from being crushed. He’d felt the walls straining around them, knew they wouldn’t hold long. His only concern had been to get Bucky to safety; his own wasn’t half as important. Until Bucky refused to leave him behind. Then, Steve realized, getting Bucky to safety meant getting himself to safety. They were intertwined, inseparable. Just as he would never leave Bucky behind, Bucky would never leave him.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed that way, just watching Bucky sleep, before he began to stir. Bucky opened his eyes slowly, a disoriented expression on his face. The moment he saw Steve, though, he seemed to remember what had happened and quickly sat up, tossing the blanket off of him.

“Steve!” He nearly threw himself onto Steve’s bed, reaching out to hug him, but stopping just short of it as though he feared injuring him further. “Steve, you’re awake! You’re okay!”  
“Yeah,” Steve said weakly, “I’m okay, Bucky.”  
Bucky kissed him before a sob escaped his throat, “Damn it, Steve, don’t scare me like that!”  
Steve rested one hand on the side of Bucky’s face, his thumb brushing away the tears at the corner of his eye, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.”  
Gently prying Steve’s hand off of his face, Bucky kissed his fingers softly, “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Steve. I …I couldn’t possibly take it. Please, please Steve, don’t do that to me again.”  
“I can’t make that promise, Buck.” Steve said. “I gotta keep you safe.”  
“ _No_ , you _don’t_. You need to keep _you_ safe!” Bucky cried. His entire body was shaking, tears spilling down his face. “Stop worrying about me, Steve! It’s gonna get you killed! You can’t leave me like that …”  
Steve forced himself to sit up and tenderly took hold of Bucky’s face, “You listen to me, James Buchanan Barnes. I am not going to leave you. I don’t care if I die and have to force myself back to life, it’s not going to happen. I love you too much for that. Do you understand me?”  
Bucky nodded, “I understand, Steve. But still,”  
“But still, nothing. I’m not going anywhere. The only way I won’t be right by your side is if you send me away. That’s it. I’ve made my decision and you’re it. Nothing’s going to change that.”  
“I love you.”

Steve felt his lips pull into a grin as soon as Bucky said that. It was the first time he’d said it directly to his face, knowing for certain that he could hear it. He’d said it before, but only when he seemed to think that Steve was asleep. Steve had been satisfied with that, intent on letting him open to him on his own time. He hadn’t realized, though, just how badly he had wanted to hear those words spoken directly to him, not whispered in the dark at the edge of sleep.

“I love you too, Bucky.” Steve assured him, then kissed him softly.  
For a moment Bucky looked terrified, as though he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. Then he swallowed hard and took a deep breath, “Steve I …there’s something I have to tell you.”  
Steve took hold of Bucky’s hands and gave them a light squeeze, “I’m listening.”  
“I, I uh …” Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I …”  
“It’s okay, Bucky,” Steve said, “whatever it is, you can tell me.”  
Bucky leaned his head against Steve’s chest, “I can’t, though, Steve. I can’t say it.”  
Steve rubbed his back, “Sure you can, Buck. Just say it.”  
“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t …say it …”  
“Alright,” Steve soothed, holding him close, “alright. If you’re not ready to tell me, then don’t. Whatever it is, when you’re ready, I’ll be right here.”  
“Yeah …”

He wanted to reassure Bucky more, but there wasn’t much else he could say about it. He knew Bucky wouldn’t tell him whatever it was he wanted to tell him until he was good and ready, something that Steve knew could take months. He didn’t mind, though, not as long as Bucky was willing to talk to him at all. He’d opened up considerably in the last few months; Steve could hardly believe he was the same person. He only hoped the changes were for the better, that Bucky would be able to heal after all.

\---

Bucky watched Steve as he fell back to sleep, still exhausted despite his enhanced body. He’d never been so afraid before, than when it seemed he wasn’t going to be able to pull Steve out of the rubble. Not even the day Steve had nearly been shot through the head had scared him so badly. For the first time ever, he truly thought he might lose him. Just the idea of it made him sick, made him want to die more than ever.

Now Bucky wasn’t sure what to feel. He had saved Steve, sure, but for how long? It had been the Hydra’s best attempt on his life yet, and It only learned from Its mistakes. The next attempt would be even better. They were running out of time. Bucky knew he needed to find a way to tell Steve who—and what—he really he was soon or it would be too late. He needed to convey everything he knew about the Hydra, about everyone he knew who served It, about Its mysterious power source. Bucky may not have known what or where it was, but if he could at least make its existence known then maybe Steve could figure it out.

He didn’t know what he was going to do, though. He was no closer to figuring out a way to give Steve the information he had and after what happened he was undoubtedly going to get a visit from Rum. He came to him periodically for his reports, which Bucky was glad to learn were almost always disappointing. He held back as much information as he could, unwilling to completely betray his new friends if he could help it. 

That only solved half of his problem, though. Rum never just wanted his report and Bucky could rarely think of a good enough excuse to give him; he only came to him when he knew he’d be alone for a while. Bucky didn’t want to be unfaithful to Steve, but Rum would get suspicious if he refused him and Bucky could never help himself when they were together. It was shameful and agonizing and he hated himself for it, but the pleasure was there all the same.

He needed to step outside and clear his head. Giving Steve a quick peck on the forehead, Bucky stood up and slipped out of the room. There was no one around so late at night, the halls were quiet. Bucky had never felt quite so alone before. He’d never realized how greatly his life had been changed in the last year. Having actual friends in his life, people who cared about him, was a powerful thing. Knowing that it would have to come to an end soon, even more so.

“Hey, look who’s up!” Dugan called from behind him.  
“Hi!” Bucky exclaimed, startled. He shook his head, realizing how ridiculous he must have sounded, “I, uh, didn’t know anyone was still up.”  
“Just getting back in.” Falsworth said. “How’s he doing?”  
Bucky nodded, “He’s alright. Sleeping again, but he’ll be fine by morning.”  
“Good to hear it.” Falsworth replied. “Don’t know what we’d do if anything happened to our Steve. Or to you.”  
“Thanks.” Bucky whispered, glancing down at his feet.  
Jones patted him on the shoulder, “Get some rest, huh? You look terrible.”  
“Oh, _thanks_.” Bucky laughed.  
“You know what I mean.” Jones said. “Not like we’d look any better in your position.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky nodded. “How are you guys? I didn’t even check to see if anyone else was hurt.”  
“Nah,” Dugan shook his head, “just you two. Everyone else was just fine, we even managed to dig out the books that got left behind.”  
“Stark’s got about two dozen pairs of eyes searching them right now.” Morita said. “He’s optimistic about it. And you know when that thorough bastard gets optimistic it _must_ be something big.”  
Bucky slid his hand into his coat pocket, relieved to find the papers were all still there, “That’s good. That’s real good.”  
“We’re gonna help out first thing in the morning. Gonna join us?” Jones asked. Then he added with a sly wink, “Or you gonna stay in with your man?”  
“Yeah, definitely.” Bucky paused, then laughed and shook his head, “Join you, I mean. Jerk.”  
Jones shrugged, “Just checking. We’d all understand if you two needed a day to _rest_ after today.”  
“We’ll have plenty of time for _resting_ later.” Bucky replied, hoping it was true. “We’ll be back to work in the morning. Well, _I_ will, since Agent Carter’s probably going to put Steve right back into a near-death condition as soon as he can walk. For now, though, I need to get some air.”  
“Don’t go too far.” Dernier advised. “There were some Hydra soldiers spotted not far a few hours ago.”  
“Right. I’ll be careful.” Bucky replied. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you guys in the morning?”

After bidding them a goodnight, Bucky made his way outside. The cold air washed over him and he sucked it deep into his lungs. Leaning against the wall of the building, he was trying to put his thoughts in order when he felt a pull somewhere inside of him. He was filled dread as he realized what it was; he was being summoned. The Hydra Itself wanted to speak with him.

Bucky took in a deep breath and walked in the direction he felt the pull leading him. He was being taken away from the town, to an abandoned shack nearby. The walk was only a few minutes before the pull ceased, but there was no one inside. He reached into his pocket for the small knife he kept there, then nicked the tip of his index finger. As his blood surfaced, he walked to the far wall began drawing the Hydra’s seal in it. When it was complete, he backed away and slowly lowered himself to his knees.

“Master.” He breathed as a figure emerged from the seal on the wall.  
“On your feet.” Came the reply.  
Heart pounding, Bucky slowly stood up, but remained silent. The Hydra stood before him in Its true form, Its false face gone. Its skull was a fiery red, Its gaze sharp and unyielding.   
“What’s taken you so long?” It demanded.  
“I’m sorry, Master.” Bucky said quickly, hoping he sounded sincere. “I’m trying my best, I swear it, but Steve—Captain Rogers, he doesn’t have anything to exploit! There, there’s nothing to work with!”  
“Nonsense.” Said the Hydra calmly. “From your reports, it sounds as though he’d do almost anything to see his beloved mother again.”  
“But, Sir, you …even _you_ can’t do that …” Bucky cursed himself silently as he spoke; contradicting the Hydra was a serious offense. He didn’t know why he’d said anything at all. “C-can you?”  
“No, I cannot.” It concurred. “But does _he_ know that?”  
“I don’t know.” Bucky admitted.  
“What _do_ you know?”  
Bucky wanted to look away from It, but there was no way he would be allowed to, “Not …not much, I’m afraid. He just doesn’t have a weakness.”  
“Doesn’t he?”  
“Sir?”  
“It seems to me he was _quite_ vulnerable today.”  
Everything inside of Bucky froze. He felt the blood drain from his face, the world began to spin. His voice barely came out, “S-sir?”  
“Tell me, James,” Bucky flinched at the sound of his first name, “what possessed you to pull the Captain from the rubble, instead of allowing him to be crushed?”  
“I …I, I …I panicked!” He blurted. “I, I just thought that if I didn’t he would survive anyway and then the whole, the whole mission would be in jeopardy and, and, and …”  
“Not how it looked to me.” Interrupted a voice from behind him.  
Bucky spun around, “Rum!”  
“Rogers was pretty clear when he told you to run away.” Rum went on. “You’re the one who stayed anyway. What was it you said? ‘Not without you’? Was that right, Bucky?”  
Eyes wide in terror, Bucky slowly turned his gaze back to the Hydra, “I would never betray you, Master.”  
The Hydra reached out, ran one of Its fingers along his jaw line, “Oh, of course you wouldn’t, my pet. You are a _good_ and _loyal_ servant. And that’s why you’re going to correct your mistake.”  
He nodded, “Yes, Master.”  
“I want you to go back to that hospital, James.” It commanded. “You’re going to behave as though …everything is normal. And while they all rest, you’re going to paint the walls in your blood to invite your brothers and sisters inside. Kill those fools as they sleep. And most importantly, as he recovers from his wounds, you will take your knife and cut open the Captain’s throat.”

A shudder rocked Bucky to his core. His entire body was shaking now. The order was burning into his very bones; even if he tried to disobey, his body would follow it anyway. He tried to gasp for air but it didn’t quite reach his lungs. He wanted to vomit. How he was still standing, he didn’t even know. He knew that behind him, Rum was saying something, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own rapid heartbeat. He couldn’t see; only the image of Steve’s face, so full of love and trust, was in his eyes. Kill Steve? How could he do that? How could he ever carry out such an order? The burn was getting stronger, fire eating away at him from the inside out. There was only one way to make it stop.

“Go.” Said the Hydra. “Finish your mission.”   
“Yes, Master.” His voice emerged without his consent. Bucky turned away, dazed, and moved defeated toward the door.  
Rum winked as he passed him, “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll have you screaming for days when this is over.”  
“Yes, okay. Do that. Make me scream.”

What was he saying? He didn’t want that. He didn’t want Rum. He wanted Steve. Steve’s touch, Steve’s laugh, Steve’s voice, Steve. Bucky couldn’t hurt Steve. There was just no way. He had to protect Steve, he had to keep him safe. He had to help him save the world.

In the doorway, his shaking stopped. Against his body’s will, he turned back around to face Rum and the Hydra, the fire devouring his every inch. Even so, Bucky held his head high, “No.”

\---

The sun was rising when Steve woke up. He felt strong again, refreshed. His wounds were almost fully healed, reduced to nothing but minor things that even a non-super soldier would recover from in no time. He was ready to get back into action.

“How are you feeling?” Peggy asked, sitting beside him. Her voice was controlled; there was something wrong.  
“I’m fine.” Steve answered. “I can get back to work. What’s wrong?”  
“You need to stay calm.” Peggy said, her expression every bit as controlled as her voice.  
“Peggy, what’s wrong? What happened?”  
“There’s …no easy way to say this.”  
Steve braced himself, “Say what?”  
But nothing could have prepared him for what Peggy said next, “Steve …Bucky’s been kidnapped.”


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had something witty to say here but I forgot it. Enjoy seventeen!

People were talking but Steve couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t absorb anything that was being said. His mind would only focus on one thing, and one thing only. Bucky. Captured. Taken by the Hydra. Held as its prisoner for the third time. How could one person have such incredible misfortune? What were they doing to him? Was he even still alive?

Steve quickly pushed that thought away. Of course Bucky was still alive. He was a survivor, that much was for sure. There was no way he would be killed so easily. And the Hydra was no fool; it wouldn’t waste time taking him prisoner just to kill him. No, it was more than likely planning to use Bucky as bait to lure Steve in. That was the one thing everyone seemed to agree on. What course of action to take was a different matter.

Since their meeting began, everyone had been arguing over what to do about Bucky’s abduction. Some were suggesting they try to track down the soldiers that had been seen dragging him off, some that they wait for the Hydra to make its next move. Others insisted they ought to continue on with their mission as though nothing had changed while they gathered information on Bucky’s whereabouts. Whatever they decided on didn’t matter to Steve; as soon as they knew where Bucky was he was going after him even if he had to do it alone, trap or no.

It was the uncertainty that ate at Steve the most. Not knowing where Bucky was or what was happening to him. Just the thought of him, alone and helpless in the hands of the Hydra, was too much for him to take.

“Steve!” Peggy snapped him back to reality.  
He turned his head to her slowly, “What?”  
“You’ve been sitting here alone for nearly twenty minutes now.” Peggy said. “Or did you not notice that everyone else had already gone?”  
“Huh?” Steve looked around and realized that they were the only two left in the room. “Oh, I …I didn’t realize …”  
“You’re worried about Barnes, I understand that. We all are. But we’re not going to get anywhere if you won’t focus.”  
“I’m trying, Peggy,” Steve replied, “but there’s nothing to focus _on_. We don’t know where he’s been taken, we don’t know where the next factory is. We don’t have _anything_ to go on.”  
“I know it’s hard, Steve,” Peggy said, her voice softer now, “but we can’t get through this without you. You’re the best strategist I’ve ever seen—when you’re thinking clearly. And that’s what we need from you right now. That’s what Bucky needs from you right now. You can’t help him if you don’t snap out of this.”  
Steve groaned and rubbed at his face, “I know, I know. I just …”  
Peggy took hold of his hand, “Go on.”  
“I’m scared, Peggy. I can’t take this, waiting around for more information while that monster does God knows what to Bucky. I have to get to him. I have to _save_ him. But I can’t; I’m stuck here waiting. I’ve never felt so helpless before.”  
“All the more reason to hold it together. We’ll figure something out, Steve. You know we will. And we’ll do it much faster once you’re focused again.”  
Steve nodded, “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.”  
Peggy ran her fingers along the back of Steve’s hand, “We’ll get him back, Steve. We’ll bring Bucky home.”  
“I know.” Steve said, getting to his feet. “I know Peggy, you’re right. I just, I need to clear my head.”

He didn’t quite make out Peggy’s response as he walked out of the room. She was right, he knew that, but that didn’t stop the feeling of helplessness that was plaguing him. Steve could barely close his eyes without the image of Bucky in his solitary cell flashing through his mind. The very first time he’d seen him. Bruised, bloody, dirty, that emptiness in eyes his. On the brink of both starvation and dehydration. Muttering mindlessly, unaware even of Steve’s arrival.

Bucky had already been through too much. Steve couldn’t let him go through more, especially not because of him. The Hydra was going to pay for whatever it was doing to him, Steve would make sure of it.

***

Steve watched the track below him, as though staring harder could make the train appear faster. After two agonizing days of waiting, Howard was finally able to intercept a signal and find out where Bucky was. At the moment, their sources told them he was being taken by train to some other hidden factory. It didn’t take Steve long to decide they would intercept it and get him back. A zip line was set from their position to over the track; when the train arrived they would board and overtake it.

“You know this is probably a trap.” Peggy said, standing beside him. She’d insisted on joining the mission, unwilling to let Steve and the rest walk into something so dangerous without her there to help them.  
Steve nodded, “That doesn’t change anything.”  
“We don’t for sure that Bucky’s on that train.” She continued. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t try, I’m just warning you against getting your hopes up. We don’t even really know that there _is_ a train.”  
“I know that.” Steve admitted.  
“No, we do know there is a train!” Falsworth declared as he watched the track through his binoculars. “I can see it! And they’re moving like the devil.”  
“They’re still radioing about a special prisoner being transported.” Jones said. “Whether it’s Bucky or not, this is big.”  
“Alright,” Steve called out, readying himself to move as the train came into view, “we’ve only got about a ten second window. We miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield.”  
Dugan forced a laugh, “Better get moving, bugs!”  
Falsworth huffed, “Mind the gap.”

It felt like an eternity before Steve heard Dernier’s signal. When it came he didn’t hesitate to go; there was no time now for caution. Bucky needed him. He landed on top of the train’s middle and kept moving immediately. Somewhere behind him he could hear the rest of the team landing as well, spared a quick glance to make sure they were safe. He hurried along the top of the train until he reached a ladder, then rushed down it into the train. He needed to make his way through to the back of the train, with Peggy, Dugan, and Morita behind him, while Jones, Dernier, and Falsworth were making their way toward the front. Whether Bucky was on the train or not, they were going to take it.

Inside was quiet. He was surrounded by storage crates, probably holding weapons and supplies for the Hydra’s forces. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew taking the shipment would benefit them greatly. That didn’t matter to him at the moment. What mattered was that he needed to get to Bucky, and Bucky wasn’t there.

“I’m in.” He said quietly into the radio Howard had built for their mission; it was smaller than any they’d used before, more easily concealed. “This car’s secure. I’m going ahead.”  
“We’re right behind you, Cap.” Came the reply from Dugan.  
“We’re secure here, too,” Jones said, “we’re moving up.”  
“Stay in contact.” Steve ordered.

He continued through to the next car, eyes scanning every inch of it for any sign of Hydra soldiers. It was just as quiet as the first car. As cautiously as his desperation would allow, Steve made his way through it. There were no soldiers in this one either, just more storage. Bucky wasn’t there.

Ahead he could see one soldier, who appeared to be examining a map of some kind. Steve tossed his shield and knocked him unconscious before he noticed him there. Once the man was down, Steve moved forward, quickly making sure he wasn’t going to get back up, and kept going. He had to find Bucky and Bucky wasn’t there.

The next car had several soldiers inside; Steve made short work of them. There were more crates, but Steve didn’t check what was inside. More weapons, most likely. Peggy and Dugan and Morita would examine them when they caught up. Steve didn’t have time to focus on them. He didn’t have time to stay in that car. Bucky wasn’t there.

There were more cars, so many more cars. There were more soldiers, more crates he didn’t care about. The train was never-ending. Each time he reached a new car, another was waiting for him. Sometimes he had to fight a soldier or two, but none of them stood a chance against him. Then there was another car. But Bucky wasn’t there.

Panic began to set it. He couldn’t find Bucky and the train couldn’t possibly go on for much longer. There was still a chance that he was in the front, but they hadn’t radioed that he’d been found. He’d known from the start that the train may have been a setup, but he’d assumed Bucky would be there as bait. If he wasn’t even on the train, where was he? What was happening to him? Steve couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. He pushed through the next car. Bucky wasn’t there.

And then he was.

It was the last car and it was different than the rest of them. The crates inside were significantly larger, and—where the other car’s crates had been secured in the middle and along the walls—they were only against the walls. In the center a metal chair was bolted down, and there was Bucky, bound to it by several chains. Though his head was down, Steve knew it was him; he’d know Bucky anywhere.

Steve pried open the door and stepped in, eyes darting about for any sign of enemy soldiers. Bucky’s head snapped up and his wide eyes met Steve’s gaze; his face was bruised and there was a small cut just over his left eye. His eyes were red and Steve couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears or both running down his face. There was a cloth tied around his mouth and he shook his head quickly, obviously trying to warn Steve to stay away without being able to speak. The danger meant nothing to Steve, not when Bucky was there.

“Bucky!” Steve breathed out, relief radiating from him. He ran to Bucky faster than even he knew he could and pulled the cloth away from his mouth, “Bucky, are y—”  
“Behind you!”

Steve turned quickly, shield ready, and blocked the attack from the soldier that had emerged behind him. He threw his shield and knocked the soldier out, then turned again just in time to avoid being hit by the soldier who stepped out from behind Bucky. He didn’t stand a chance against Steve, nor did the next two who attacked. It took a few minutes, but Steve had them all defeated soon enough. Then it was just the two of them.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped, “you have to get out of here!”  
“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve replied, breaking the chains that held Bucky, “I don’t care what the Hydra has planned.”  
Bucky shook his head frantically, “No, Steve, you don’t understand!”  
“It doesn’t matter, Bucky.” Steve pulled Bucky to his feet and checked him over for injuries. He wasn’t in great shape, but he didn’t appear to need immediate medical attention. Steve placed his hand lightly on his face, “Are you hurt?”  
“Steve, please, you have to go!” Bucky cried.  
“I am not leaving you.” Steve said firmly.  
Bucky dropped his head against Steve’s chest, “I love you, Steve.”  
Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and kissed the top of his head, “I love you too, Buck.”  
“Please, Steve, _please_ , just go.” Bucky whimpered. “ _Please_.”  
“It’s okay, Bucky,” Steve soothed, “it’s gonna be okay.”  
“I love you.” Bucky sobbed. “I love you, I love you so much.”  
“I know, Bucky, I know.”  
“I’m sorry.”

Steve didn’t have time to question what he meant. There was shouting, then he was yanked backwards and Bucky was on the floor with Dugan holding him down. He wasn’t struggling, though. He wasn’t moving at all. Peggy and Morita were standing in front of Steve, both talking to him. He couldn’t hear either of them. His eyes were glued to the spot just in front of where Dugan was holding Bucky down; to the gun on the floor.

“Kill me!” Bucky was shouting. “Just kill me!” His skin had a strange orange tint to it, his veins were glowing bright red. As though there was a fire raging inside of him.  
Steve could barely find his voice as he stared in horror, “What …what’s going …Bucky? What’s going on?”  
“Look at me, Steve.” Peggy said.  
“What’s happening to him?” Steve questioned. “What’s going on here?”  
“ _Look_ at me, Steve.” Peggy repeated.  
Steve blinked and did as she said, “Peggy, what’s happening to Bucky?”  
“It’s a curse, Steve.” Peggy’s voice was controlled again. “A curse that comes from signing a Hydra contract; it prevents disobedience.”  
Steve shook his head, “What …I don’t …”  
“The Hydra, Steve.” Peggy said firmly, leaving no room for him to question her. “Bucky works for the Hydra.”

1991

_“You did good.” His handler tells him. “He’ll be proud.”_

_He nods once. He knows he should be pleased with himself—is pleased with himself—but something is gnawing at the back of his mind. His targets. One male, one female; husband and wife with one male child attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The male owned and ran a weapons manufacturing corporation, the female worked with him. Both level six. An automobile collision was staged to hide that he’d killed them. It had to look like an accident, that’s what he’d been told. There was something about the male, target, though, something he can’t let go of._

_“Are you listening?” His handler asks._  
_“Yes.”_  
_“Act like it.”_  
_“Yes, sir.”_

_As important as he knows whatever his handler is saying is, he can’t focus on it. The male target won’t get out of his head. He wants to ask, but he knows better than that. There is no reason for him to know anything but the information he’s already been given. It is not his place to ask questions._

_But the male target, he can’t stop thinking about him. He was an older man, in his seventies most likely. He didn’t look familiar—not that he knows anyone He hasn’t assigned to work with him—but there was something about him he recognized. No matter how hard he thinks about it, though, he can’t figure it out._

_A hard hit to the side of his face pulls him back to reality. He looks at his handler, “Sir?”_  
_“What’s wrong with you? Huh? You need your head fixed?”_  
_“No, sir.”_  
 _His handler looks at him for a long time, “Let’s go.”_  
 _“Yes, sir.”_

_He follows his handler through somewhere—he doesn’t know where they are—and into a small room. It’s empty, save for the large metal container against the far wall. He shrinks into himself; he’s being put away. His caretaker is there, along with a few others. They’re speaking, but he doesn’t listen. Their words aren’t meant for him anyway. They usher him into his container._

_“Who was he?” He dares to squeak out just before they close him in. “The man?”_  
_“Howard Stark.” Says his caretaker before he closes it._

_Stark. Howard Stark. He knows the name from somewhere. He watches through his little window as they prepare the machine to put him away. Why does that name mean something to him? Howard Stark. He reaches out with his metal hand, places his fingers against the glass. He whimpers._

_He doesn’t want to be put away. He wants to tell them that. Tell them that he’s sorry for disappointing Him. He wants to promise that he’ll be better. He’ll be good. Just please don’t put him away._

_Howard Stark. Who is Howard Stark? Or rather, who_ was _Howard Stark? He sees them pull the lever. An image flashes before his eyes. A young man. Handsome, suave. Arrogant but agreeable in his own strange way. Brilliant, in almost every way. He likes this man. Howard Stark._

_Horror overcomes him. Howard Stark. He knows him. He’s dead. Howard is dead. Because he killed him. What has he done? Why, why would he kill Howard? Howard is a good man in his own way. His friend. And now he’s gone. His wife is gone. They’re all gone. Their son is all alone. And it’s all because of Bucky._

_“Howard!”_

_The rest of his cries are trapped inside him as he freezes._


	18. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART I  
> Steve Rogers, Earth’s greatest champion, forms a relationship Bucky Barnes, a mysterious man with a dark past and a painful secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit left of part one, hopefully people are still with me here! lol

1944

The world was spinning. It was upside down, inside out. Nothing was what it was and everything was what it wasn’t. The impossible was happening, only it wasn’t impossible anymore. Nothing made sense. It was a dream, a nightmare, a horrible hallucination. Except it wasn’t, it was all real. 

Steve stared at the paper in his hands, sitting by himself in one of the cars. The rest of the team was off doing something that was probably important. He didn’t care. Nothing they were doing made any difference to him. All that mattered to him was Bucky and the news Steve had been given.

Bucky worked for the Hydra. He had a contract with it, signed in his own blood. He had been planning to kill him. Steve didn’t want to believe it, but there was no denying it once Peggy showed him the contract. Steve hadn’t taken his eyes off of it since she gave it to him. It was right there, James Buchanan Barnes, in Bucky’s handwriting. There was no further information, just the condition that upon signing, Bucky belonged to the Hydra.

There had been debate about what to do with him once they’d secured the train. Arguments over whether to take him with them back to base or to just kill him there. They’d never had a prisoner before; everyone they tried to take alive, even those on the train, had committed suicide by the cyanide pills they were keeping hidden in their mouths. Bucky so far was the only one not to. It was hard to tell what that meant, though. Was it a sign that his capture was planned and they were falling further into the Hydra’s trap, or merely an arrogant oversight, based in the idea that he wouldn’t have failed to kill Steve?

Despite his confusion and near out-of-body feeling, Steve had gotten himself together enough to order the team to restrain Bucky and take him with them. Steve didn’t fully know what to do or how to deal with the current situation, but he did know that he didn’t want Bucky dead. That wasn’t an option. It never would be.

Now that they had control of the train they would stop it once they were out of the mountains and load their own soldiers onto it, then continue on to the alleged factory it was supposed to be going to. The question was what would become of Bucky once that happened. Steve’s habit of disobeying orders when necessary was well-known and often overlooked thanks to his efficiency, but he knew there was only so far he could stretch that. Refusing to hand over a prisoner wasn’t something the higher ups were going to let go. They would take him by force if they felt they had to. After that they would collect as much information from him as they could, by torture if need be. Steve wasn’t about to let that happen to Bucky, Hydra servant or no. 

He had to figure out what to do and quickly. So far no one but he, Peggy, and the rest of the Commandos knew what was going on. But they only had a few hours before they met up with their soldiers and would have to report. When that happened, Steve had to have a plan. But in order to put together that plan, he needed more information. To get that information, he needed to talk to Bucky. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that.

“Steve?” Jones stepped into the car with him. “You doing okay?”  
Steve shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do here.”  
Jones nodded and sat beside him, “We’re all with you, there. I don’t think anyone here saw this coming. I don’t think I’d believe it if we didn’t have the contract right here.”  
“Has he said anything?” Steve asked, finally looking up from Bucky’s contract.  
“Nada.” Jones replied. “Dum Dum’s with him now, keepin’ watch, but he’s not moving or talking.”  
“The crates?”  
“Weapons, armor, uniforms, some more books. Looks like they dug some out after they blew up that library we found.”  
“Anything useful?”  
Jones shrugged, “We’re not sure yet. There’s …something …about some kind of secret weapon. Like a power source for its magic or something.”  
“I’ve never heard of anything like that before.” Steve commented.  
“None of us have either. Hard to say what it means for the fight.”  
Steve nodded but didn’t say anything. He glanced back down at the paper in his hands.  
“You should get it over with before it’s too late, Steve.” Jones said.  
“What?”  
“We all know you wanna talk to Barnes. You should just get it over with.”  
“I’m not sure if I can.” Steve admitted.  
Jones stood up and patted him on the shoulder, “Well you might not get another chance. Whatever you’re gonna do, Steve, you need to do it fast.”  
“Yeah …”

Steve watched him leave, then turned his attention back to Bucky’s contract. As he stared at the signature, he realized that Jones was right. The longer he waited to go and speak to Bucky, the worse it would be. And the less time he would have to do it. He heaved himself up and made his way back to the car where he was held. He paused and looked through the window into the car; Bucky was exactly where he was when Steve had found him, chains and all, Dugan leaning against the wall nearby.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, “Dugan.”  
Dugan straightened up and looked at him, “Cap?”  
“Take a walk.” Steve said. “I’ll take over now.”  
For an instant it appeared Dugan wanted to argue, but instead he nodded, “Yeah, got it. Good luck, Steve.”  
“Thanks.” As Dugan stepped out and left them alone, Steve turned his attention to Bucky. He was silent, his head lowered and shoulders drooped. He’d never looked so small. Steve felt drained, he didn’t know what to think. What had the Hydra done to Bucky, what kind of tortures had it subjected him to that he would sign a contract with him? Taking a deep breath, he braced himself, “Look at me.”  
Bucky stiffened, but slowly raised his head. His bruised face was unreadable. He said nothing.  
Steve wasn’t sure what to make of his condition, so he forced himself to speak, “Well?”  
“Well what?” Bucky sounded dazed.  
Feeling himself tense even more, Steve tried to hold onto his composure, “What did they do to you, Bucky? How did this …how did it make you …”  
Bucky shook his head, “The Hydra didn’t do anything to me. That contract they found is much, much older than you think.”  
“The Oceanus?” Steve questioned.  
Bucky’s lips twitched, then he started laughing, “The Oceanus? The Oceanus was the most fun I’d had in _years_! I _loved_ every second of it. I spent nearly every waking second just _fucking_. It was _bliss_.”  
“What …what do you—”  
“It was just like right now, with a few …differences.” He shifted slightly, the chains holding him tight against the chair, and spread his legs, “So much fun. One of the best times of my life. The things my man did to me those eight months. All the different ways he fucked me, how he had me begging and screaming. There wasn’t a soul on that ship that didn’t get to hear me.”  
“Why’re you saying this?” Steve questioned, eyes falling unwillingly to the bulge between Bucky’s legs.  
A moan escaped his lips, “Oh, Steve, you can’t imagine it. Him fucking me in our room, in the corridors, the dining hall, on the deck …in private, in public …few eager beavers jumped to sign their contracts because he promised them they could have a turn with me if they did. I’m quite the share crop, you know. Plenty of broads and fellas’ve had a go at me. They weren’t as good as him, though. Not a one.” 

It wasn’t an outright lie. He, along with seven others, had been placed on the Oceanus to open paths for a number of others to board and take control of the ship. Once that was done, Bucky was allowed to do as he pleased, an opportunity he and Rum hadn’t wasted. Eventually Bucky, the other seven, and the ninety-nine captives who’d chosen to sign a contract rather than die had been brought back to the world. In the years since, all but Bucky had either been moved to secret assignments or killed for attempting to escape their contracts.

But Bucky wasn’t thinking about any of that now. Everything he’d done since signing his contract disgusted him and he couldn’t deny that anymore. Couldn’t bury it deep inside himself until he felt nothing. Couldn’t forget all of his problems in the throws of pleasure. The thought of even trying to now made him want to vomit. Even so, he had to convince Steve that he’d enjoyed what he’d done. That he was a traitor. What better way to do that than fake arousal while he talked about it?

“Stop it, Bucky.” Steve demanded.  
Moaning again, Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his head back, “I could come just thinking about it.”  
“Stop it!” Steve shouted, anger surging through him. It wasn’t Bucky’s talk of his apparent lover that upset him, but of the things he’d done. He seemed genuinely pleased with himself, as though he _liked_ the thought of using his own body to get people to sell their souls to the Hydra.  
Bucky squirmed and spread his legs wider, saliva dribbling down his chin, “Go on, Steve, keep yelling. Let me have it. Hit me. Let it out, all that anger. _Fuck me_ with it. See if you can make me _scream_ like he does.” He looked at Steve, eyes glossy, and licked his lips, “If you can, I’ll convince Master to offer you a contract, too. Then you can have your way with me any time you want. You can do _anything_ you want with me, Stevie.”  
“Damn it, Bucky, _stop!_ ” Steve turned away and pressed his hands against the wall for support. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wasn’t Bucky talking. It couldn’t be.  
Bucky laughed, “I’m not surprised you’re not up to it. _No one_ can make me scream like he can. Ever since I started this mission, nothing’s been better than the nights when I got to sneak off to give him my report. Lot’s of information on you. And Peggy and all the others.”  
“Shut up!” Steve slapped his hands over his ears. It was useless; he could still hear everything Bucky said clearly.  
“And then he’d reward me, all night.” Bucky moaned, loud and shameless. Hurting Steve was killing him, but it was still better than the alternative. Moaning, gasping, he went on, “He’s my favorite part of all this. Serving Master is its own reward but _him_ , oh God, what he does to me is so much _more_ than reward.”  
“Stop it! Stop it, stop it!” Steve felt dizzy. He wanted to throw up. He loved Bucky, had fallen for him completely. He’d shared the most intimate parts of himself with him. He’d do anything for him. And now Bucky was telling him it was all a lie. Right from the start. That not only did he serve the Hydra, but he enjoyed it. And he was making his enjoyment thoroughly clear.  
“Until Master brought me and _my man_ together I didn’t know how _pleasurable_ life could be. Do you know how many ways there are to tie someone up, Stevie? I didn’t. Not until my man taught me. He taught me so much. Saved the best for my best work. And this, this has most definitely been my best work.”  
“ _Shut up_!” Steve smashed his fist into the wall, desperate to block out what Bucky was saying. To not hear the twisted truth of Bucky’s life and the man he really loved. It left a large dent in the metal, but didn't bring any comfort.  
“But then I had to come back and deal with _you_ again.” Bucky spat. “Pathetic. Boring. Fucking bluenose. All that strength and no will to use it right. But you know what, Stevie? If I closed my eyes and tried hard enough I could _almost_ pretend you were him.”  
Steve went rigid, but said nothing as he stood panting. Absorbing that bit of information Bucky had just given him.  
“Almost.” Bucky repeated, sure that he’d finally completed his life’s greatest performance.  
Slowly, Steve turned around, “But you never _closed_ your eyes, Buck.”  
Bucky flinched, panic washing over him, “What?”  
“Your eyes were always open we made love. So you couldn’t have been pretending I was someone else.” Steve felt calmer now as realization began to sink in.  
“I …I …that …”  
“You’re lying, Bucky.” Steve said. “And if you’re going to lie, I’m not going to keep you company.”  
Bucky stared wide-eyed at him, unsure what to say.  
Steve turned away and opened the door, “You can sit on that for a while.”

The moment the door closed Bucky began to scream after him. He didn’t know or care what he was saying. He thrashed and pulled at his chains, demanded that Steve return. Demanded to be let go. Demanded he didn’t know what else. Everything had fallen apart. No one, not a single person, had ever caught him lying as easily as Steve had just then. Not with such confidence. He’d fooled the best analysts there were, yet Steve—probably the worst liar in existence—had caught one tiny detail and used it to pull his entire story apart. What was he supposed to do with that? What was he supposed to do about any of it?

Eventually, someone else must have come into the car, because suddenly Bucky found himself gagged again. He didn’t remember anyone doing it, didn’t even notice anyone touch him, but he realized the door was closing again and someone was walking away from the car. From his position, he couldn’t tell who it was. It seemed they weren’t interested in anything he had to say. Not that he blamed them.

 

“How much time do we have?” Steve asked once the team was all together in the front of the train.  
“About three hours.” Morita answered. “After that, we’ll have to hand him over.”  
“Gonna have to get some good information from him before then.” Dugan remarked.  
“You really think he deserves all this?.” Falsworth said.  
“I do.” Steve nodded. “I know it’s risky. I know there’s no reason for any of you to believe any of this. But I can’t let this go without at least _trying_.”  
“You’re sure it’s not just because you’re still carrying a torch?” Jones questioned.  
“I would never risk your lives over something like that.” Steve swore. “If I had any doubts at all, I wouldn’t ask this of you.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Morita muttered. “We know, Steve. Doesn’t make this any better, though.”  
“I know. I’m sorry for dragging all of you into this. I promise, I’ll …”  
Dugan cut him off, “Save it, Cap. We’re all in this together, so spare us _that_ speech, will ya?”  
“Yeah, if you’re _that_ sure he’s really on our side,” Jones added, “we’ll do whatever it takes to help, whether we like it or not.”  
“But we _don’t_ like it.” Dernier snickered. “So you’d better prepare to pick up the tab for the rest of your life.”  
Steve smiled, “I’m looking forward to it.”

He took a few minutes to prepare himself. He was sure that Bucky had been lying and he suspected that Bucky was still on their side. Or rather, had returned to their side at some point after signing his contract with the Hydra. If he was trying to betray it, then Steve was going to help him through every step of the way. It wasn’t fair to ask Peggy and the others to have any part in it—if he was wrong or it didn’t work out, the results could be disastrous—but they weren’t about to be left out of it. He’d do the same for any of them, after all. Finally, he returned to the car where Bucky was held.

“Are you going to start being honest with me?” He questioned.  
There was a long pause, but eventually Bucky nodded.  
Steve pulled the cloth away from his mouth, “How long?”  
“You weren’t even born. Your _grandparents_ weren’t even born.”  
Steve remembered what Bucky had said about his age that first night at the pub; three hundred-sixteen years. Naturally, Steve had thought he was joking. “How did it happen?” He asked.  
With a groan, Bucky rolled his eyes, “I signed a contract, how do you _think_ it happened?”  
“ _Why_ did you sign a contract?”  
Bucky sighed and looked down again, “What does it matter?”  
“Just. Tell me.”

Bucky said nothing. He wanted so dearly to tell Steve everything. To tell him about the day he’d signed the contract, what he’d been promised and how every bit of it fell apart. He wanted to tell him everything he knew about the Hydra and Its servants. He wanted to tell him about the years of servitude he’d given, of all the blood he’d spilled and lives he’d taken. Of all the pain and tears and the fear and the heartache. He wanted to beg Steve not to hate him, to forgive him. He wanted Steve to tell him that he still loved him.

He couldn’t do any of that, though. He couldn’t speak the words even if he tried. And he certainly didn’t deserve for Steve to forgive him, let alone continue loving him. The most he could do was try again to make Steve hate him enough that even his overwhelmingly kind heart couldn’t see redemption for him. To try and reveal as much information as he could. And to hope that they killed him before his Master could force him to do any further harm.

Gathering his resolve, Bucky snapped his head back up, “What difference does it make? Don’t you get it, Rogers? I _lied_ to you! I’ve been lying from the start! I _tricked_ you. My job was to get close to you and get enough information to use against you. I was sent to _kill_ you.”  
Steve didn’t move.  
“Everything that happened was a lie! It was a sham! All of it, every second, was fake!”  
“Really?” Steve questioned, not believing him. “Everything? All of it?”  
“Every word, every touch, every _kiss_ , all of it!”  
“You expect me to believe that, Bucky? That everything that happened between us was a lie?”  
“ _These is no us! There never was!_ ” Bucky screamed. “ _There’s nothing between us! It was fake! All of it!_ ” Steve reached out and Bucky flinched, expecting to be hit.  
Instead, Steve gently brushed his thumb beneath Bucky’s eye, “Then why are you crying, Bucky?”  
“I …” Bucky’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and felt himself choking on sobs, “I, I just …I’m not …I …”  
“Tell me the truth, Bucky, please.” Steve implored.  
“You don’t know _anything_.” Bucky muttered, looking away again.  
“Sure I do. I know that you’re holding something back, but you want to say it. I know you’re trying to make me mad. I know you could’ve left me trapped in the cave-in but you didn’t. I know you could’ve pulled that trigger but you didn’t. I know you had plenty of other chances to kill me that you didn’t take. I know you wouldn’t have tried to warn me to leave if everything between us meant nothing.” Steve said. He wanted to get through to Bucky that no matter what he said, it wasn’t going to change anything. Steve would never stop loving him. And Steve would never believe that Bucky didn’t love him in return. “Tell me the truth, Bucky.”  
“I already did.”  
“I know you’re scared, but we can make this right. Just _talk_ to me. Tell me why it did to you, Bucky. Tell me how it got you to sign that contract. Let me help you.”  
“I don’t need your help!” Bucky snapped. “I’m Master’s _favorite_. That’s why _I_ was trusted with this mission. The only problem here is that _they_ got in the way!”  
“Stop lying.”  
“I _belong_ to the Hydra. I was never _yours_.”  
“I never said you were. I love you, I don’t own you.”  
“You don’t love me.” Bucky insisted. “You just think you do because I tricked you. I just told you, there was never anything real between us.”  
“Then tell me you don’t love me.”  
Bucky froze, “W-what?”  
“Tell me you don’t love me. Say it. Say, ‘Steve, I don’t love you.’ That shouldn’t be a problem, right? If all of this was fake. Go on, Bucky, say it.”  
“I …” Bucky hesitated. He had to say it, but how was he supposed to do that? Never had he told such a grand lie before. “I …I don’t …I don’t …I don’t love …I …don’t …  
“Go on.” Steve prompted.  
“I _don’t_! I don’t … _fuck_ …” Bucky dropped his head, sobbing pitifully.  
Steve rested his hand on his shoulder, “Let me help you, Bucky. Please.”  
Bucky whimpered, “You can’t, Steve.”  
“Sure I—”  
“No you can’t!” Bucky looked back up at him, eyes wide. “You can’t help me, Steve. No one can help me. It’s too late. Don’t you understand? I was beyond help the moment I signed that contract. I brought this on myself, Steve, there’s nothing you can do for me now. It’s _too late_.”  
Steve shook his head, “I don’t believe that. Not a word of it.”  
“That’s because you don’t know the Hydra like I do. There’s only three ways out of a contract, and only one _ever_ happens. Death. If you really want to help me, Steve, then put a bullet in my head. Just put me out of my misery.”  
“What are the other ways?”  
“Steve, please, don’t do this.”  
“What are the other ways?”  
Bucky let out an exhausted breath and gave up, surprised he was even able to say it, “The Hydra has to break the contract. But that doesn’t happen. Master _always_ sticks to the contract. Always gives you what you were promised. Just …not in the way you expected.”  
“And …what did it promise you?”  
“I can’t tell you that.”  
“Of course you—”  
“Can’t, Steve. Can’t. Not won’t. Even if I try, the words won’t come out. It’s a curse to keep us from giving up anything if we’re captured. I’m not allowed to tell you why I signed. Or _anything_ about it.”  
“Was it worth it?” Steve asked.  
A fresh round of tears ran down Bucky’s face. He looked Steve in the eye, a broken smile on his tired face, “Every second.”


End file.
